Spider Webs
by OnceInALifetime
Summary: When one of their own is taken from them forever, how will the Snyder's react? And when incidents lead to foul play, what will be done for justice? Rated for future chapters, Nuke-fic, and henceforth slash.
1. Prologue

_**Two quick points I'd like to make! First of all, only the prologue is in second person / present tense. The rest of the story will be told from third person and past tense. Also, the chapters after the prologue are all much longer (ranging 2700-4000 words in length).**_

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_"I'm sorry sir; he didn't make it."_

At first the words didn't make sense – the doctor could've been speaking gibberish for all you cared. Besides, you don't think you would've been able to make sense of the words through the roaring in your ears, no matter what language he had spoken in.

"Son, are you there?" The doctor reaches out and gently taps your shoulder, hoping to elicit a response, any response from you, since you haven't moved in well over a minute.

The touch seems to jar you from your shock, and suddenly everything made sense – and you wish you could go back to your confused numbess.

_How… how could this have happened? How? He was healthy, he was strong, he was _**_alive_**_. How can that just be gone?_

Hardly aware of your motions, you twist away from the doctor's grasp on your shoulder, and move to stand by the window. Staring out of it, you notice a delicate spider web, glistening with morning's dew. It was a thing of beauty, but fragile beauty at that – the slightest breeze could shake it, and with one wrong move, it could be broken into gossamer strands that would never resemble what it had once been; much like your heart.

You don't that realize you have fallen to your knees until gentle hands help you up, and the spicy scent of cologne fills your senses. Turning slowly, you looked up into that face, those eyes, and feel your tentative grip on calm shatter.

"I'm sorry, oh God, I'm sorry," that voice chants, over and over until you just want the noise to stop, want the pain to stop, need it to stop – all of it.

You bury your face in his shoulder, hoping to drown out the pain of your loss in his polyester sweater. You don't recognize the sobs wracking your entire body; dimly, you wonder why your cheeks are growing wet.

Only after you have sobbed yourself out do you allow yourself to truly look into those eyes, those blue, blue eyes, and understand the compassion behind the words that this man, this beautiful, perfect man, is saying.

"Luke, I'm so sorry… about Ethan."

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**Drop a review, let me know what you thought? I would really appreciate it!**


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer – I don't own the boys, most unfortunately. If I did, you would be seeing a hell of a lot more… action, from them. The characters and settings used or mentioned within this story are not my own. Don't sue!**

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Luke stared out of his bedroom window before abruptly shutting his blinds, casting his room into pitch-black darkness. Looking outside and seeing the bright sky and the glowing sun created an unbearable contrast between what he was seeing and what he was feeling. Staring into the simplistic perfection of nature, Luke couldn't help but want to destroy it, destroy it all for being so backwards, so ignorant of his loss, so _wrong_.

Nothing should look at peace and happy – nothing. How could it? His little brother, his five year old brother who had just been finger painting on the sofa yesterday, was gone. Gone, and not just to go visit his grandmother, or stop by the daycare. He was dead, alone in some coroner's office with nameless mortician's touching him, proclaiming cause of his death like it wasn't a big deal; like Ethan hadn't taken a part of Luke with him.

Luke squeezed his eyes tightly shut, only to see images from the previous day flash across the backs of his eyelids as if they were branded there. He shook his head back and forth and moaned, trying to dislodge the memories that were playing through his mind as if they were on repeat. "No," he mumbled, not wanting to relive what he knew was coming. "No, please…"

As if on cue, Luke felt strong arms wrap around him from behind, pulling him against a solid chest. Briefly, he struggled; his mind so wrapped up in another world that he forgot who was in the room with him. At the soft "shhhh," whispered in his ear, Luke went limp into Noah's arms so quickly that he frightened Noah for a second.

Just as quickly, Luke turned in Noah's embrace so they were face to face. He stared into Noah's eyes, looking for any sign of pity. What Luke found instead – pain, sadness, love – threatened to shatter whatever whole part of him was left into pieces.

Grinding his teeth so that the sob working its way up his throat wouldn't escape out of him, Luke leaned forward until his forehead rested against Noah's. Even though he knew that his breath in Noah's face must have been uncomfortable, and that Luke's neck was growing sore from being strained upwards, Luke refused to move. If he did, if he allowed Noah to truly embrace him, Luke feared that he would fall to pieces. He forced himself not to move - that is, until Noah's hand gently began rubbing his back.

The soothing touch reminded Luke of all the times that he had done the exact thing for Ethan, including one time when Ethan had been throwing up after eating twenty-four mini donuts from a local fair in one sitting. One memory led to another, and soon Luke's mind was cascaded with memories of his little brother – when Ethan had been born, when he had taken his first steps, ridden his first bike, the first time he had said Luke's name – and Luke found that he couldn't resist the beckoning call of Noah's warm, hard body.

Determined that he would _not cry_ and treat Noah like he had at the hospital the day previous, Luke slipped his head from Noah's forehead to the crook of his neck, allowing his arms to wrap around Noah's waist. He immediately felt Noah respond to his movements by wrapping his legs around Luke's waist, sliding one hand around his back and reaching another into his hair, effectively cocooning him.

Desperately trying to stay calm, Luke focused on Noah, and Noah only; feeling his warmth, smelling the spicy scent of his cologne, and feeling every centimeter of where they touched. His mental explorations of Noah's body led him to his chest, where Luke could _feel_ the steady beat of Noah's heart against him. Knowing that Noah was here, and alive, while Ethan was alone and dead caused Luke's control to snap like an overplayed guitar string.

Luke heard a low keening noise was filling the room – that wasn't him, was it? He also found that he couldn't bring himself to give a damn about either the noise or his weakness. He knew that he shouldn't be leaning on Noah like this; Noah was mourning, too. But Noah was there, and the knowledge that he wasn't going anywhere struck a chord within Luke too deep to deny.

He wasn't allowing himself to cry, some internal compromise that made no sense, even to him. But the dry sobs that were wracking his whole body did more than enough to show Noah the pain that Luke was going through, and the pain that was sure to come. Luke lost track of time; minutes were kept track of by how many times his body convulsed. Eventually, when his body decided to cooperate, and Luke temporarily gained control of his emotions, he focused on what Noah was whispering in his ear.

He was murmuring reassurances, simple phrases such as "Let it out, Luke", "We'll make it through this", and "I know it's not fair." As Luke lay there entwined with Noah, listening to the 'comforting words' Noah was mumbling, Luke found that he was inexplicably filled with rage. In one swift movement, he ripped himself away from Noah's embrace and began pacing the room. Noah's confused and slightly worried gaze infuriated Luke even more, and he turned to Noah and just screamed, knowing he was being unfair but unable to stop himself.

"Goddammit, Noah! I know it's not fair – he's gone! How can any of this be fair? I was there; I should have done more. When that car went off the bridge-" Luke's voice broke, before resonating through the small bedroom once more. "When that car went off the bridge, I should have been smarter. I should have grabbed Ethan, protected him, pulled him out of that damn backseat and not worried about my own worthless life! I should have made that worthless ass fucking _stop_ the car before it even started! I-I-I should've, should've –"

The grief closing up Luke's vocal chords drove his rage higher, and he turned sharply and slammed his fist into the surface closest to him, which happened to be a wall. He barely felt the pain, and absently noticed the blood that slid down his knuckles before dripping onto his plush carpet. He punched the wall again, enjoying the sensation of hitting something, anything; letting out his anger and hatred and fear and regret and _hurt._

With every punch, Noah moved closer to Luke, until he grabbed Luke and pulled him back into his embrace. Luke turned around and furiously punched every inch of Noah that he could reach; the punches were lacking strength, and even though Noah barely felt them, he knew that he would have bruises in the morning.

The second that Noah was sure that Luke had worn himself out, he grabbed Luke's fists and pinned them down to his sides. Raising his head, Noah fixed his eyes on the top of Luke's bowed head and stated "Look at me." It wasn't a question, but a demand, and Luke knew better than to refuse.

Slowly, Luke raised his head until he was looking into Noah's eyes again – partly defiant, partly worried, but mostly too grief stricken to care. Noah leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Luke's forehead, feeling all of the fight drain out of Luke's body at the simple touch. The quivering body that stood a mere centimeters from Noah's own reassured Noah that Luke had not meant any of the words that he had flung at Noah; although Noah was still reeling from what Luke had said.

Grabbing Luke's hands, Noah pulled him to the side of the bed before stripping him down. Although Noah's hands grazed Luke's skin more than once as he removed his shirt and jeans, there was nothing sexual in the act – it was about Noah helping Luke, comforting Luke.

When Luke was standing in front of Noah in nothing but his boxers, Noah quickly shed his clothing before pulling back the cover on Luke's bed. Noah slid in, patting beside him and hoarsely saying "Come here."

Luke slid in next to Noah, pausing briefly when he was next to him. Was he still mad at Noah? His question was quickly answered when Noah grabbed his waist and pulled Luke backwards, pressing his back against Noah's chest. Noah tangled their feet together and wrapped his arms around Luke, holding him in place.

For long minutes the room was quiet, until Luke's voice broke the silence. "Noah, I'm sorry –"

"Shh," Noah hushed, tightening his grip on Luke. "It's okay, just go to sleep."

Any further protests Luke had about his previous behavior were quickly forgotten as his eyes shut against his will, and he was carried into an uneasy sleep.

When Noah was sure that Luke was asleep, he carefully pulled away from Luke and walked towards the bathroom in order to freshen up. Splashing water on his face, he looked into the mirror at his haggard reflection and wondered how things could have turned out like they did.

Yesterday, Noah had been watching Barney with Ethan while Luke teased him - the Snyder farm had been in its usual state of chaos. In just twenty-four hours, everything had changed; Luke was nearly catatonic, Emma couldn't stop baking, and Lily and Holden were still at the hospital, "making arrangements." The only thing Noah was grateful for was that Faith and Natalie had been in Paris with Lucinda for the weekend; Noah wasn't sure if his boyfriend could have coped with having his sisters around, too.

A soft groan emanated from the bed, tearing Noah from his thoughts. He quickly walked over to the side of the bed, frowning when he saw the pained expression on Luke's sleeping face. Not wanting to wake him up, but not wanting Luke to have to relive what had happened through a nightmare, Noah leaned down and gently kissed his forehead; smiling slightly when Luke's body instantly relaxed.

Lying down on top of the covers, Noah placed his hand over Luke's before returning to his thoughts. He'd never been more scared than he was when he had received a phone call from Detective Margo Hughes, telling him that there had been an "accident." When he had arrived at the hospital after practically running from Java and seen Holden and Lily holding each other crying, he had assumed the worst. Even now, lying in bed with Luke, he couldn't put a name to the emotions that had almost overwhelmed him – it hurt too much.

When he had found Luke though, and realized that it wasn't Luke who had died, the combination of horror and relief that rose within him had threatened to bring him to his knees. All he could remember was holding Luke, and comforting him; trying to let him know that nothing was his fault.

Noah had insisted on being with Luke when he had to issue his statement; he wasn't sure if Luke would be able to do it on his own. What he learned almost broke his heart. Noah paused as he thought back to Luke's statement.

_"I was driving home with Ethan when my car broke down. It would have been a couple hours walk back to Oakdale, and I couldn't call to get someone to pick us up because I forgot to charge my phone." Luke explained, his eyes focused on something in the distance that neither Noah nor the police officer could see.___

_"I had been about to throw Ethan on my back and start walking towards Oakdale when Kevin showed up. He said he could give us a ride back to town, and I figured 'why not?' After all, he wouldn't do anything, right? Not with Ethan, not with my innocent brother." Here, Luke's voice broke, and it was several seconds before he continued speaking; Noah's hand on his back being the only thing that was keeping him grounded.___

_"We'd been driving for a couple of minutes when Kevin started acting really weird. He kept fidgeting, and swerving the car across the road. I remember, I said 'Man, is everything okay?' That seemed to upset him even more, and he just kept swerving the car back and forth, back and forth."___

_"Luke, you're doing great, you're almost done," Noah murmured, seeing how close Luke was to a breakdown. As much as Noah hated this situation, _**_hated_**_ making Luke talk about what was killing him inside, he knew it had to be done.___

_"I was sitting there when I smelled it," Luke continued, his voice shaking. "The entire truck _**_reeked_**_ of vodka; I don't know how I missed it. If I had been paying more attention, then maybe…" Luke's voice trailed off as his eyes glazed over, showing him a million different ways he could have acted.___

_At Noah's whispered reassurances, Luke drew in another breath and continued. "I asked Kevin to pull over, I begged him to. But he was acting crazy, mumbling about how it was 'the right thing to do' and that he 'had no other choice.' " Luke was talking faster and faster, as if he needed to say whatever was coming next. ___

_"I tried to wrestle the wheel away from Kevin when I realized that he wasn't going to stop. I remember reaching out, because I was going to grab the steering wheel again and _**_make_**_ him stop when he jerked the wheel." Luke's voice rose in a crescendo and he was trembling despite Noah's touch.___

_"I don't remember what happened; all I remember is flying downhill and having the entire truck shake. Ethan was crying from the backseat. And I wanted to tell him that it would be alright, that I would make it alright, when the entire car seemed to shriek. Then – then it was quiet." Luke buried his face in his hands, muffling his words as he continued to speak. "I got out of the car and ran to the passenger's door, and I tried to help Ethan – I tried. But I couldn't, and he stared at me, and he wasn't there but I could see his eyes, and he was looking at me and –" Luke's words became unintelligible as his entire body shook; Noah grabbed him and pulled him into his arms, resting head under his chin, wishing there was something more he could do to ease Luke's pain, but knowing that was impossible._

Noah's recollections were interrupted when he heard Luke's phone vibrate, indicating he had a call. Noah had turned off his ringer as soon as Luke had fallen asleep, so that he wouldn't be woken up. Grabbing the phone, Noah left the room and answered it, knowing that Luke wouldn't care.

"Hello?" He asked warily, highly doubting that the call was bringing any news that he wanted to hear.

"Is Luke Snyder there?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"No, he's not, but you're talking to his family. Can I help you?" Noah responded, his face whitening under his tan as he listened to what the man had to say.

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**Apologizing in advance for the cliffhanger! Let me know what you think? I accept any kind of review! **


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer – Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me (although I wish it did!).**

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"Noah, this is Constable Harrington." The deep voice said. "I was wondering if I could talk to Luke. I understand that he's going through a hard time right now, but it's to do with the investigation."

Noah froze; counting to ten and breathing slowly to ensure that he didn't berate the officer for undermining Luke's 'hard time.' "Sir," Noah began, "I hate to disappoint you, but Luke is definitely unavailable at the moment. I can answer questions on his behalf, if you'd like. But I know that nothing he says is going to bring his little brother back." Here, Noah paused in order to collect himself, "So I think that whatever questions you have can wait another half an hour, don't you?"

"Actually, Noah, this is quite an important matter." Harrington stated, sounding less placating and more business-like. "It has to do with Luke's car. Do you know whether he has had any mechanical work done on it recently?"

Startled by the question, Noah thought before he answered. "Umm… I know that he had a warranty inspection last week, and everything seemed fine. Why? Is something wrong?"

A weary sigh could be heard on the other end of the line, before a voice filled the phone lines once again. "We believe that Mr. Snyder's car may have been tampered with; it appears that someone with mechanical experience purposely caused his car to break down. Can you see why it is of the utmost importance that we talk to him?"

Noah slowly sat down on the stairs he had been standing by, his head whirling with questions. _Who would do that? Why would someone do that?_

"Noah, are you there?" Harrington asked, sounding worried. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I need Mr. Snyder to come down to the station as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I can't just take your word on the condition of Mr. Snyder's car; I need to talk to him directly. Also, could you get Mr. Snyder to bring any records of his last visit with his mechanic? Documentation is important."

"Definitely." Noah replied slowly, wishing he understood what all of this meant. "Constable, if I brought the documentation down to the station, would that be okay? I don't think Luke is fit to be out in public right now."

"I suppose that would do," Harrington reluctantly replied. "How soon can you be here?"

"Give me half an hour." Noah promised, before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. He stared at his feet for a moment, blankly noticing the designs imprinted on the carpet, before shaking his head and standing up. Sneaking back into Luke's room, Noah grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off of Luke's desk – always the writer, his boyfriend was – and scribbled a brief note about having to leave the house before duplicating it. He placed one of the notes on his pillow, and the other underneath Luke's cell phone on the table. Luke had often complained that he could never find the notes that Noah left him. This way, Noah knew that Luke had to find at least one.

Noah softly shut the door before exiting Luke's room. He made his way downstairs, walking softly as to not wake up Luke.

Once he arrived in the kitchen, he noticed that Emma wasn't there. She had been baking ever since she had found out about Ethan, and Noah was relieved to see that she had gone to some of her friends, someone she could be with; not alone with only her baking utensils and recipe books to console her.

Focusing, Noah tried to remember where Luke had placed his car's documentation. Looking around, he saw the yellow folder Luke kept all of his mechanic's information in peeking out from under a mass of papers on the counter. Smiling slightly at Luke's inability to stay organized, Noah grabbed the folder and opened it to make sure it contained the papers needed. Nodding to himself when he saw that everything was in order, Noah grabbed his car keys and headed for the station.

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Pulling into the station, Noah was surprised at the sheer amount of vehicles he saw in the parking lot. Studying some of them on his way in, he quickly realized that the majority of them belonged to many branches of the Snyder clan. Not wanting to deal with the massive amounts of well intentioned Snyder's who would want to ask him questions about Holden, Lily and Luke, Noah pulled up the hood on his jacket and walked into the station with his head ducked down.

Avoiding the bustling crowd and walking straight to the desk, Noah stood there until he caught the attention of the receptionist. "Hello, is Constable Harrington here? I need to speak with him."\

The receptionist glanced at him, before asking "What do you need to speak to him about?" The way she phrased the question gave Noah the impression that she had been fielding questions about the Constable, and his newest investigation, all day.

"I'm here on behalf of Luke Snyder," Noah said, watching as the receptionist looked at him in a new light. "The Constable needs to see some documentation, it's important."

"What's your name?" the receptionist asked, "I'll let Constable Harrington know you've arrived."

"Noah, Noah Mayer," he replied, "I spoke to the Constable on the phone earlier today."

"Noah, if you could take a seat, I'll have the Constable right out to see you." With a smile, the receptionist waved her hand towards a number of seats that were set up, forming a sort of waiting room.

Noah had barely made it to his chair when he heard a deep voice call out his name, causing almost every Snyder in the building to glance up and look for him. With a cringe, Noah turned around and forced his face to not show his surprise upon seeing the Constable.

Constable Harrington couldn't have been that much older than Noah himself – Noah would guess his age to be in his middle twenties. He had blonde hair, emerald green eyes, and a body that screamed Hawaiian surfer. He looked nothing like Noah had been expecting – how did someone so young become such a hardened officer?

Keeping his expression from showing his thoughts, Noah walked up to the Constable and shook his hand, introducing himself with a brief "Noah Mayer."

"Constable Eric Harrington." he replied, "Could you come with me, please?" Not waiting for Noah's answer, the Constable turned on his heel and headed towards what Noah assumed was his private offices.

When Noah entered the moderately sized office, Harrington sat down and pointed towards the seat that Noah was to take. Noah reluctantly sat down before sliding the folder he had been carrying towards the Constable.

"These are the documents you wanted?" Noah asked, knowing the answer but wanting the affirmation.

"I'm about to find out." Harrington replied, grabbing the files and scanning through the documents. "Yes… everything appears to be fine here." He stated, glancing between the papers in the folder and various papers spread about his desk.

"Noah, I'll be right back. I'm going to photocopy these documents briefly; is that alright?" At Noah's nodded consent, Harrington grabbed the folder and left the room, leaving Noah to his thoughts.

Harrington reappeared within a matter of minutes, entering the room and sitting down once again. "Noah," he began, "Although I appreciate you coming down here, it is imperative that I speak to Luke immediately."

Noah held Harrington's gaze for a long moment before he replied. "I'm aware of that, Constable, and I promise that I will bring Luke down here as soon as possible. Luke hasn't slept since the accident, and I didn't want to wake him – especially with what he's going through."

"Luke's lucky to have such a good friend." Harrington replied, looking at Noah with a mix of respect and understanding.

"Luke and I are far more than friends, Constable," Noah stated, knowing that he had to put that piece of information on the table. At Harrington's confused look, Noah continued. "We are boyfriends; is that going to be a problem?"

Harrington recovered from his brief surprise to answer Noah's question. "No, of course not! I apologize for my assumption."

Noah's tight nod seemed to reassure Harrington, and he gave Noah a small smile before handing him the yellow folder. "Thank you for coming down here, Noah" Harrington said, before sliding a small business card across the table. "I wrote my cell phone number on the back of this card; please call me as soon as Luke is able to come down here to talk to me."

Noah nodded yet again, putting the card in his pocket and heading towards the door. Struck by a thought, he turned around to face Harrington. "Constable Harrington," he began, "is there any way that I could exit the building through a side door? I don't have time to deal with the Snyder's right now – I need to get back to Luke."

"Certainly," Harrington replied, "Follow me." Beckoning Noah, Harrington led them down the hallway to an emergency exit door.

"Thank you," Noah murmured before leaving the building and practically running for his truck, desperately wanting to get home to Luke.

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When Noah arrived at the Snyder farm, the first thing he noticed was how _quiet_ it was. Normally the noise from the farm could be heard from miles away, but there was not a sound besides the neighing of the horses.

Noah practically ran up the stairs to Luke's room in his desperation to see him. He paused briefly in front of the door to catch his breath and calm his frantic heartbeat – why was he scared? Unable to answer the question, he pushed it out of his mind before opening the door.

When he saw a haphazardly made bed and no Luke, Noah began to panic. _Where could he have gone? Oh god, did someone come here for him? Oh god, no… please no…_

Panicking, Noah felt the tenuous control that he had maintained since hearing about Luke's accident slip. As soon as he acknowledged that he was loosing it, he felt himself slowly sit onto the bed. He stared at the wall for endless minutes before hearing his a version of father's voice in his head; calling him weak and stupid for wallowing in emotions when they would do nothing to help him.

Standing upright and feeling like a rod of steel was in place of his spine, Noah scanned over the room, looking for any sign that would show him where Luke went. Glancing about the room, he had an epiphany, and felt like smacking himself for not realizing where Luke would be earlier. Grabbing his discarded coat, he turned on his heel and ran out of the room.

When he arrived at the barn and saw Luke hugging one of the horses, Noah almost ran over to him in relief. Instead, he controlled his impulse and stood in the shadows, just watching, listening.

Luke was mumbling into the mane of Shadowdancer, his favorite mare, but his every word was more than clear to Noah, who stood just meters away.

"Shadow, this isn't fair." Luke whispered, unaware of his audience. "I should be the one in that morgue, not Ethan. It's my fault… I'm the one that got in that car, I'm the one that trusted that fucking ass, _I'm_ the one that should pay for it. And if not me, Kevin should be the one with his neck fucking snapped. How could he live? Shadow, how? It's not fair, it's not fucking fair!" Luke's voice wavered, until he buried his face back into Shadow's neck and stayed still for endless minutes.

Noah walked up behind Luke, purposely making his steps loud so Luke would know that he was coming. Luke stiffened, and hoarsely called out "I don't want to see you!" before turning around. When he saw Noah, something in his eyes seemed to shift – vulnerability appeared, and it almost seemed as if Luke was giving up his fight to look calm.

Noah enveloped Luke in yet another hug, before he could fully process what the hopeless look in Luke's eyes meant. Instead, he hoped that with time, he would be able to heal whatever had snapped within Luke on that car trip back to Oakdale.

When Luke's breathing evened out, Noah released him, quickly placing his hands on Luke's shoulders to keep him from moving too far away.

Luke was the one who broke the silence between them. "Noah, where'd you go?" Luke asked. "Your note said that you had to take care of something; what was that?" At Noah's awkward silence, Luke continued. "If you wanted to get away from me, I understand, I mean I'm not that much fun to be around right now, and -"

Noah grabbed Luke and placed a hard, silencing kiss on his lips. Maybe it was out of place, with all events considered, but Noah knew that Luke needed to feel something _real_. When he eventually pulled back, Luke's eyes had darkened several shades.

"No, Luke, you know that I would rather be here with you than anywhere else. No matter what."

Making sure that he had driven his point home, Noah continued. "I had to go down to the station to talk to a Constable." Noah's hopes at brushing off the topic were quickly disappointed when Luke snapped his head up, looking more alive than he had since everything happened.

"What did you have to talk to the police about?" Luke asked, partly curious and partly terrified. When Noah was silent, Luke spoke up again. "Noah… don't lie to me. Please."

"Luke… they think that someone tampered with your car, to make it break down." The look of complete shock in Luke's eyes unsettled Noah, but he continued. "They need to talk to you, but I told them that you were busy; they called when you were sleeping."

A hard, steely look had settled in Luke's eyes, replacing his shock. Something Noah had never seen in the warm chocolate brown depths, and something that he had hoped he would never see; the expression was just _wrong_ on his lovers face.

"So… Noah, are you telling me that they think this was intentional?" Luke asked, slowly. "Someone meant for Kevin to pick me up? Someone _meant_ to kill me, to kill my little brother? My god," Luke gasped, "do you think that Kevin did this?"

Noah's empty look told Luke everything that he needed to know. Locking a part of himself away, far away where it wouldn't bother him with his grief and loss, Luke looked into Noah's eyes and stated "Grab your keys. We're going to the station. Now"

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**Drop a review, let me know what you think? I take the good, the bad, the ugly, concrit… you name it, and I'll take it.**


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer – Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me, although I do wish that it did.**

*****Notes – This chapter ****does**** contain sexual content. Also, thank you to everyone who dropped a review and let me know what they thought – I really appreciate it!**

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Driving to the station, Luke felt Noah's anxious gaze on him, more than once. Luke wanted to smile at Noah and reassure him that he was okay, but he found that he couldn't. All of his energy was focused on what he was going to learn at the station; hoping against hope that there would be something there to clear him of his regret, his guilt.

When Noah slowly grasped his hand and squeezed, Luke knew that he should squeeze back, and let Noah know that he was there with him. Instead, he let his hand lay limp in Noah's until Noah released it. Luke turned to look out the window, studying the scenery with an abnormal fascination. Every tree, every leaf that Luke saw was something that Ethan never would. _Stop._ A small, unfamiliar voice in Luke's head whispered. _You need to be strong, not weak. Focus on what needs to be done – finding out what the cops know. Don't be weak. _

Placing his hands on his legs, Luke slowly raked his fingernails up and down the side of his thigh, feeling the sharp sting of his fingernails digging deep through the denim. Knowing that he shouldn't enjoy the pain, yet finding that it calmed him, focused him, Luke continued his soothing movements: up, down, up, down.

Luke was so lost in his comforting actions that he didn't notice when they pulled up to the station. Noah's soft voice whispered in his ear, and reminded of where he was, and of what he had to do. Raking his nails so deep that he thought he might break the skin, Luke took a deep breath before schooling his features to an expression of calm and looked at Noah.

"Alright, let's go.' Luke said, pretending he didn't see the combination of worry and caution etched on Noah's usually impassive face.

Noah made an undeterminable sound of agreement before jumping out of his truck and running to Luke's door to open it. As Luke stepped out, a low hiss involuntarily came out of him; although he hadn't been technically injured in the car crash, the whiplash still fucking _hurt._

Ignoring Noah's increasingly worried look, Luke grabbed Noah's hand and headed for the station building; pretending that Noah believed the Luke holding his hand was a sign of intimacy, and not a rushed gesture like they both knew it to be.

Noah led them both to a side door. Luke was about to ask what they were doing when Noah knocked on it, and the door opened to reveal a young officer.

The officer glanced at Noah before settling his gaze on Luke. An indiscernible look passed through the officer's eyes before he beckoned them through the door and walked down the hallway.

Noah moved to follow, but Luke quickly grabbed his shoulder and pulled them back. "Who is that, and why aren't we going through the front door?" Luke found himself asking, internally hating the gruff quality of his voice.

Noah winced before replying. "That's Constable Harrington; he's the officer overlooking the… case. When I was here earlier to drop off your mechanic information, I talked to him."

"That's fine, but why are we going through the back door? Are we not supposed to be here?" Although Luke knew he shouldn't give a damn about what door they went through, he wanted a reason for the cloak-and-dagger act before he set another foot into the station.

"Luke, the last time I was here, there were lot of your relatives in the building. I thought we could avoid having to talk to them over and over by coming through a different door. I texted the Constable – we exchanged numbers when I was here last – and I asked if he could arrange to have us enter through this door."

If Noah's explanation hadn't melted a tiny portion of Luke's frozen heart, the earnest expression on his face would've. Wanting to kiss Noah in thanks of what he did, but feeling too guilty, too dirty to do so, Luke settled on grabbing both of his hands and squeezing them. "Noah, thanks." Luke said, the tone of his words saying what the words alone couldn't.

Noah seemed to understand what Luke meant, and squeezed his hands once more before releasing one and walking them down the hallway to a small, official-looking room. Upon entering, they noticed the officer, Constable Harrington, sitting at his desk and mulling over stacks of papers. Noah knocked at the door to let him know of their arrival, causing Harrington to look up.

"Mr. Mayer, Mr. Snyder, take a seat, please." Harrington offered, gesturing towards two chairs that had been set up on the opposite side of his desk.

Once they had both settled, Harrington brought his gaze up to Luke's, matching brown eyes with green. "Mr. Snyder, I would offer my deepest condolences to you, but I know from experience that the words of a stranger are not going to make you feel any better. I am, however, sorry for the pain that you're going through, and I am going to do whatever I can to end this investigation as soon as I can."

The Constable's bluntness seemed to surprise Luke at first. He quickly recovered, and a sliver of grudging respect entered his eyes.

"So," Harrington continued before Luke had time to reply to his initial statement, "I need to ask you some questions, Luke. I know you've already given a statement, but we need to go over some other details. Is that okay?"

"Does it matter if it's okay?" Luke mumbled under his breath, before raising his voice and addressing Harrington. "Sure. What do you need to know?"

Harrington continued to ask Luke a series of seemingly-inane questions, such as "Who's your mechanic," and "When was your last repair?" Luke knew that all of this information was in the folder that Noah claimed to have brought to the station, but figured they were testing him.

When they almost finished a half an hour later, Luke stood up when a manila folder fell to the ground, brushed off the table by Harrington's elbow. Official looking papers fell out of the folder, along with several photos that Luke only caught a glimpse of. Harrington instantly dropped to his knees to collect the folder, before abruptly standing upright. As he did so, Luke noticed the words "SNYDER, E" written on the front of the folder in block writing.

As if he were not himself, but simply a spectator observing the situation, Luke half rose in his chair and aimed his question at Harrington. "Are those photos of the accident?" Harrington's silence confirmed Luke's suspicions.

"Let me see." Luke whispered, the low tone of his voice slicing through the room like a knife. "I want – I need to see the pictures."

When Harrington began to voice reasons why Luke couldn't see the evidence, Luke sharply cut him off. "Constable Harrington, I was there. I was there when that car went off that bridge, I was there when we went down a fifty foot embankment, I was _there_ when my little brother died. I deserve to see those pictures."

Reluctantly, Harrington removed a select few photo's from their manila folder and slid them across the table. Luke felt Noah lean over his shoulder in an attempt to see the pictures as well, but paid him no notice. His entire focus was on the glossy photos in front of him.

Harrington had given Luke three photos to see – they were most likely the tamest ones of the bunch, but they still caused Luke to feel like he was going to throw up.

The first picture showed the marks on the road that were left from Kevin swerving back and forth. Glancing at it, Luke remembered the terror and the fear he felt; for both him and his brother. Switching his gaze to the second picture, Luke felt as if someone had punched him the stomach, punched him _hard_ and left him gasping for breath.

The picture showed Kevin's car, lying in the ravine that had been at the bottom of the hill. It was passenger's side up, and the damage to the car was extensive. The driver's side resembled an accordion, with the most damage occurring on the back half; right where Ethan had been sitting.

Luke knew that he had seen the car when the accident had occurred – after all, hadn't he looked in the backseat for Ethan? But staring down at that photo made everything more _real_, made the entire situation sink into Luke, sinking past his shock and fear and slightest hint of denial.

Wrenching his gaze away from the second photo, Luke settled his gaze on the third. He stared at it for a long moment, unable to pinpoint was his emotions were. The photo was a close up of Kevin in the hospital. Turning the photo over, Luke found a small piece of paper with a list of Kevin's injuries. Pulling it off of the photo, Luke read what was listed, having a harder time as he progressed down the list – partly because his hands were shaking so hard that the entire paper trembled like a leaf caught in a harsh breeze.

Every injury, ever technical term on that paper reminded Luke that Kevin was _alive_ while Ethan was not. Instead of reducing him to sobbing, hysterical tears like Luke expected, he found that he grew colder, number; much like how taking a swig of vodka used to make him feel. Knowing that his feelings should scare him, but being comforted instead, Luke read the injuries out loud for Noah to hear.

"Patient Kevin Davies exhibits four broken ribs, a fractured femur, severe concussion, and general post vehicular accident 'soreness'." Luke's voice sounded robotic, even to himself. "That's it? That's all he got for murdering my brother?"

Harrington opened his mouth, presumably to comfort Luke, but Luke cut him off. "Forget it. There's nothing you can do. Do you have anymore questions for me?" When Harrington shook his head, Luke stood up and tugged on Noah's hand to pull him out of his chair as well. Without a word, he walked out of Harrington's office, scarcely hearing the shrill ring of Harrington's cell phone in his desperation to leave the room.

Due to his hastiness, Luke missed the way Harrington's face darkened and flushed as he listened to the man on the other end of his phone. Luke also missed the widening of Harrington's pupils and the sweat beading on his forehead, betraying his emotions, his fear. And most importantly, Luke didn't hear the last words Harrington whispered before harshly shutting his phone; "Don't involve an innocent again."

The ride back to the farm was painfully slow, much like running underwater. It wasn't the oppressing silence that had Noah feeling jittery, though. It was the emotions rolling off of Luke in waves. Luke had been on a hell of an emotional roller coaster; Noah got that, he truly did. After all, hadn't Noah lost family, too? But what he didn't get was why it seemed as if Luke had just given up. Normally, anger within Luke led to stupid, yet passionate moments. Memories of Luke's disastrous election campaign and blowout fights when he was with Ameera flashed through Noah's head.

This time, it seemed as if Luke's anger was suffocating him. Instead of treading the current of his emotions, he was just sinking, not fighting back. The complete _defeat_ radiating off of Luke was something that Noah had only seen a handful of times before – but never to this level. _What changed in those twenty minutes with Harrington?_

After what seemed to be an endless amount of time, Noah finally pulled up into the Snyder farm. Before he could utter a word, Luke practically flung himself out of the car and began jogging out toward the barn. Swallowing a curse, knowing that he had to be 'strong Noah, patient Mayer,' Noah stuffed his keys into his pocket and ran after Luke.

"Luke!" He called, knowing his words wouldn't stop Luke, but feeling like he had to try. "Luke, wait!"

"Luke!" Noah yelled again as he ran into the stables. "Talk to me, please?" Noah glanced around, knowing that Luke had to be nearby. He checked in every stall before going to the Snyder's tack room. When he opened the door, he found Luke gathering riding equipment, the spastic quality to his movements hinting at his hidden distress.

"Luke, what are you doing?" Noah asked cautiously.

"What do you think?" Luke snapped, his earlier depression gone. "I'm going to take Shadowdancer out for a ride, obviously." Even though Luke's words were dripping in his usual bitchy tone, Noah could tell that they were lacking intent.

"Luke…" Noah started, reaching towards his lover. Luke stepped back, causing Noah's hand to fall short of its' destination, before ducking past Noah and heading towards Shadowdancer's stall.

"Noah, I need to go for a ride. I just – I need to. I need to do _something_, and I can't here, I can't because when I'm here all I see is Kevin, that bastard, and he's alive and okay and Ethan's not. I need to just _go_." Luke explained, wishing desperately that he could make Noah understand how badly he needed some semblance of control; even if it was from riding his favorite mare.

"Noah, I just, I need to feel something. I'm numb, Noah. And if I'm going to help that Constable, hell, if I'm going to help my family through this hell, I need to feel. I'm scared, I'm scared because of how numb I am." Luke knew that his sentences were disjointed, but he couldn't stop rambling. "My sisters, my grandmother – they don't know. When they're back, I need to be not-scared for them; I need to be strong. I can't do that if I'm numb. Please, Noah…." Luke begged, not sure what he was asking for, but knowing he needed it anyways.

"God, Luke." Noah murmured, trying to wrap his brain around what Luke was saying. "I love you." He offered, knowing that it wasn't enough but unable to say anything else. "I love you so fucking much; what can I do? Anything, Luke – tell me anything, and I'll do it."

"Noah, make me _feel _again." Luke begged, closing the distance between him and Noah in a few short strides. "I don't romance – I just want to feel. Please?" Luke gasped as his groin pressed against Noah, hard and real and _there._

Looking into Noah's eyes and seeing the doubtful expression there, Luke knew that it would take more than talk to convince Noah that this was what he needed.

Not giving Noah time to process what was happening, Luke dropped to his knees, yanked down Noah's zipper, and pulled his half hard cock out before swiftly swallowing it. Noah's hips instinctively surged forward, pressing himself further into Luke's mouth.

Luke gagged slightly, but refused to slow his relentless pace. He _needed_ this, and knew that on some level, Noah did too; even if his boyfriend was too noble to admit it. Feeling Noah's fingers thread through his hair, Luke became unreasonably terrified that Noah was going to pull him off of his knees, make him stop.

Desperately, Luke grasped Noah's hips and pulled him forward, essentially shoving him into his mouth. He groaned around Noah's cock, knowing that the vibrations would drive Noah crazy, as they always did. Just as he predicted, Noah moaned deep in his throat as his hands tightened in his hair; pushing him deeper into Luke, not pulling him further away.

Knowing that Noah was willing to _be_ with Luke in every sense of the word gave Luke a sliver of the control he had been missing ever since his car broke down. Being on his knees with Noah's cock in his mouth and hands in his hair gave Luke more sense of power than he had felt in days; more than he could ever feel on Shadowdancer. The irony was not lost on him, but he refused to sit around and ponder it. Feeling Noah throb in his mouth, he turned his attention away from his thoughts and towards more… pressing matters.

Focusing on Noah, and only Noah, Luke escaped reality for a few short minutes. Fisting his hand around the base of Noah's cock so he wouldn't come – at least not yet – Luke slowly released Noah from his mouth, until just the head of his cock was between Luke's lips.

Noting the whimper his action drew out of Noah, Luke continued to tease him, sliding his tongue across the slit on the top of Noah's cock with barely enough pressure. As he did so, he continued to pull his mouth off of Noah's cock until he was nose-to-dick, panting warm air onto it.

Knowing how torturous all of this teasing was to Noah, but finding that he couldn't give it up, Luke continued to lay light, fleeting touches on Noah; his cock, his balls – everywhere he could reach.

As he began to ever so lightly suck the head of Noah's cock once again, Luke wondered what was driving him to demand such complete control over his boyfriend. Noah loved him; Luke knew that as well as he knew his own name. So why was he almost desperate to prove to himself that Noah wanted him, desired him?

Noah's broken "_please,"_ jarred Luke out of his ponderings, and he suddenly felt like more than an ass for putting Noah through such sexual agony. Standing up, Luke undid his belt and pulled down his jeans in record time before kicking them off. Grabbing Noah's hand, Luke pulled him into the tack room, shutting the door and locking it.

Noah was standing in the middle of the room, so many emotions on his face that even Luke couldn't decipher them all. The one expression that was undeniable, however, was the desperation and lust etched on Noah's features, with just a tinge of guilt. Knowing Noah, Luke guessed that his lover was feeling guilty about wanting Luke when Luke was so "vulnerable."

The sudden swelling of affection in his heart took Luke by surprise. Not wanting to feel things as fragile as emotions, Luke pulled Noah's body into his and smashed his lips onto Noah's. Their teeth clinked as they explored one another mouths; Noah's desperation for more barely held in check.

Knowing that Noah needed this just as badly as he did, Luke broke the kiss and kissed his way up Noah's jaw line to his ear before saying "Noah – let yourself go. Please." The words weren't a demand, or a request. They were a plea, and Luke hoped that Noah would understand what he was asking.

The sudden, bruising pressure on Luke's lips reassured Luke that his message was all too clear. The kiss quickly turned into a fight for dominance. Luke knew that Noah wasn't feeling the _need_ to be in control, but was merely supplying what Luke had asked for. That knowledge didn't lessen the intensity of the kiss, but instead added to it; Luke wasn't quite sure why, but didn't bother to wonder.

Before he knew what was happening, Luke had both his and Noah's shirts off. Breaking the kiss, Luke turned around and bent over one of the saddle holders that protruded from the wall at waist height. Instantly, he felt hands everywhere – on his legs, arms, stomach – seemingly touching everywhere and nowhere.

Luke cried out when a hand touched his cock, which was hard against his stomach. He cried out not just from the pleasure, but from the want, the need to just feel and forget. He felt a tongue working its way down his back, heading for his ass. "No!" Luke gasped out, "Not tonight." Luke hoped Noah understood that he didn't want the intimacy, the connection that came when Noah rimmed him; tonight, Luke just wanted a good, hard fuck. "Make me forget." Luke whispered, not even sure if Noah heard what he said.

Luke found that he didn't care whether or not Noah heard when a finger slid into him, slickened by what Luke assumed was saliva. The thrust of the finger was hard, fast, and slid against his prostate, causing Luke to whimper. A second finger was quickly added, followed by a third. Their usual foreplay wasn't there; Luke knew that the fingering was for preparation only, and not for pleasure as it normally was. He found that unexpected, unexplainable swelling of emotion yet again as Noah followed his every wish to the letter, albeit unconsciously.

All of Luke's pesky emotions disappeared when he felt Noah's cock press into him, causing a burning that bordered on painful. Memorizing each muscle that stretched, each centimeter of him that burned, Luke pushed back on Noah.

A hand wrapped around Luke's stomach, pressing him closer, before Noah angled his body and thrust _right there_. Luke sobbed in pleasure before bucking back, pulling Noah impossibly deep. Every buck of Luke's hips pressed Noah deeper into him, and every time Noah thrust, Luke's cock rubbed against some stray blankets that were hanging off the saddle hook, the friction creating undulating pleasure.

Luke heard a high keening noise enter the room, but couldn't find himself to be embarrassed when he realized that it was coming from him. Instead, he slammed his ass into Noah, pressing deeper, wanting more, _needing_ more. He felt Noah's hips move faster, and faster, before Noah shuddered and came in Luke with a low moan. And when he finally climaxed, and when his vision went white, he felt whole. In those too-brief seconds, Luke's fear, his guilt and his self loathing, were gone. All that was left was pleasure, and love – love for Noah, despite the tone of their coupling.

As Luke came down off of his high, all of his previous emotions came rushing back to him. The knowledge that Noah was there, and that Noah could make him feel better acted as a paper-thin shield between him and his emotions. The shield was weak, it wasn't always going to be successful, but it was _there._. Turning his head, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of Noah's head, which was lying on Luke's shoulder.

"Thanks," Luke whispered, hoping one day he could explain what Noah was doing for him.

"For what?" Noah asked, his voice hoarse from their fucking.

"Just… for." Luke mumbled, knowing that he made no sense, but not wanting to press the matter. He knew that when his afterglow faded, he would be back to where he was one hour ago – hating himself, fearing for his family, and scared shitless about where his brothers investigation was heading. At this moment though, he let himself be selfish, and pushed it all from his mind – thinking of nothing but Noah's warmth against his back, Noah's lips pressed into his shoulder, and Noah's love, surrounding him like a blanket.

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**Once again, reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer – See previous chapters.**

***Sorry for the delay in posting this! I've had it written for a while, but due to internet problems, I haven't been able to get it up until now. Also, thank you to everyone that's been reviewing! Much love!**

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"Oh god, Noah, I can't do this. I-I can't, can't see them." Luke was bordering on hysterical as he paced in his room. "Please, Noah, let's go. Please?"

"No, Luke." Noah said softly, hating himself but knowing he couldn't let Luke back out of this. "They're your family – you need them just as much as you need them."

Noah's words didn't have the soothing affect on Luke that he had intended. "Need me?" Luke gasped out, his voice trembling. "Why would they need the man who killed Ethan?"

Noah looked at Luke for a long moment, making sure he was calm before approaching him. He walked towards Luke, using his physical presence to push Luke back until he was flush against the nearest wall.

"Luke, listen to me." Noah growled. He had tried to be patient, to be understanding and caring. But he knew his lover like no one else, and he knew that right now, Luke needed this aggression. "None of this is your fault. None. Of. It. You understand me? Kevin – that bastard, he's the only one in charge of his actions. You did nothing wrong." Seeing Luke's eyes glisten, Noah forced himself to continue. "No one blames you for this Luke; it could have been Emma with Ethan in Kevin's truck, or your mom – hell, it could've been me. So don't you _dare_ think that you killed Ethan. Blame Kevin, blame whoever caused your car to break down, but do _not_ blame yourself."

Luke continued to look up at him with those big, brown eyes so full of doubt, and Noah found that he couldn't control himself. Leaning forward, he captured those perfect lips in a hard, demanding kiss; forcing Luke to forget himself.

Long moments later, Noah ripped his lips off of Luke, panting hard and unable to tear his eyes away from his boyfriend. "Now listen, Luke." Noah demanded, seeing the doubt that had already entered Luke's eyes yet again. "I didn't stop because I don't want you anymore, or because I don't think that you're so goddamn beautiful that it makes my heart hurt. " Here, Noah thrust against Luke's hip, making sure that he noticed Noah's swelling erection. "I stopped because if I didn't, I would end up taking you on the floor, right now."

"Noah," Luke whispered, his voice barely audible. "Thank-" Luke was cut off as Noah placed a finger over Luke's lips.

"You don't need to thank me, Luke." Noah stated. "I love you, and I'm here for you – always." He reminded Luke, feeling a sense of awe of how the once impossible words seemed to just roll off of his tongue.

"Now," Noah continued, stepping away from Luke but grabbing his hand. "We need to head down to the kitchen. They love you Luke – this isn't your fault." Hearing Luke's low gulp, but ignoring it, Noah tugged on his hand to lead him downstairs, towards the kitchen.

Luke and Noah had barely sat down in their chairs at the kitchen table before they heard a vehicle pull up to the farm house. Noah, who was still holding Luke's hand, felt his boyfriend's entire body stiffen. Bringing Luke's hand up to his mouth, he kissed it once, twice, before lowering their still joined hands and standing up.

When Holden and Lily walked into the kitchen, followed shortly by Lucinda, Faith and Natalie, Noah knew that they all knew what had happened. Their eyes were red-rimmed, the mood was sober, and Natalie had a lost expression on her face that made Noah want to hug her.

Turning his attention from Luke's family to Luke himself, Noah felt something within him shatter when he saw Luke's face. Luke was looking straight ahead, his eyes wide but not seeing, and he was twitching his leg as if he wanted to run for it; run far away, and never come back.

Noah saw Luke focus his vision just in time to see his parents walking over to him, before he ducked his head. _Is he scared?_

Lily practically ran the last few steps towards Luke before throwing her arms around him in a way that only a mother could. Noah felt his throat tighten due to the intimacy of the moment, before he shook off his sentimentality. After all, this was about Luke and his family, not about him missing his lack of a mother.

Noah watched, feeling slightly embarrassed for doing so, as Luke buried his face in his mother's hair as if he was six years old. He continued to observe as Holden came up behind Lily, and wrapped both her and Luke in a massive hug; holding his family.

Faith and Natalie sprinted over to their parents sides, causing the hug to abruptly be broken. Before Noah could process what was happening, the entire family was hugging, crying and mourning in front of him.

Quietly, Noah headed for the stairs, not wanting to interrupt on the private family moment. Hearing Holden call his name out, Noah slowly turned around to see light blue eyes staring back at him.

"Noah… you're family. I know you're hurting just as much as all of us are over-" Holden cut off his sentence, his Adam's apple bobbing furiously as he struggled to maintain his emotions. "You deserve to be here; don't run off, Noah."

Before Noah could process what was happening, Holden had enfolded him in a strong hug. Noah stiffened, unsure of what do before he just let instinct take over. As if he were just a young child, he relaxed into Holden's embrace. _Is this what it's like to have a father?_

Noah knew that it was wrong to be taking comfort from Holden, from a man that had just lost his youngest son, but he couldn't help himself. Even though he hadn't allowed himself to admit it, he was hurting over Ethan's death, too. He had loved Ethan as if he was his own brother, and knowing he was gone _hurt._ But he hadn't allowed himself to feel that pain, that loss, that grief; not until he knew that Luke was going to be okay.

He felt his shoulders shaking, and found that for once, he couldn't do anything to stop it. He wasn't sure if the trembling he felt in his hands was caused from himself, or from Holden.

Suddenly, the similarities between Holden and Noah were overwhelming. They were both hurting, yet they both refused to show it in order to help those they loved. They were both grieving, but knew that they couldn't afford to lean on anyone else. _Maybe we could lean on each other?_

When Noah felt another solid pair of arms wrap around both him and Holden, he turned his head and kissed Luke's hair. Feeling Luke's shaking, Noah stepped away from Holden and tilted Luke's head up to see a lone tear falling down his cheek.

Cupping Luke's face in his hands and not caring about their audience, Noah kissed the tear away before using his thumb to wipe at another tear that was budding under Luke's eye. Finally meeting Luke's eyes, Noah noticed that although the grief and fear was still present there, Luke seemed the tiniest bit fuller, a little more whole; his family had given him something that Noah never could.

Unable to bring himself to feel bitter over his realization, Noah kissed Luke on the cheek before noticing that Faith was alone, huddled in the corner of the room. Remembering what Luke had told him about her eating disorder, and her tendency to internalize sadness, Noah couldn't help but see a reflection of himself at thirteen years old, hiding in his bedroom after a harsh reprimand from the Colonel.

Nudging Luke, Noah jerked his head once in Faith's direction. Noah watched as a sense of purpose seemed to be absorbed into Luke, and he looked more focused than he had in days. Luke squeezed Noah's hand before he dropped it and headed over towards Faith.

Luke squatted down, placing his hands on Faith's shoulders before murmuring something to her. Faith raised her head, and Noah could see the obvious pain etched on her face, even from across the room. He only saw a brief glimpse of that pain however, because Faith quickly buried her face in Luke's shoulder as her arms wrapped around her older brother.

Feeling as if he was spying on a private moment, Noah left the kitchen. He knew that the Snyder's loved him, and wanted him there, but he felt his old insecurities welling up within him. _My father nearly killed one of their sons; why would they want me here while they're mourning the death of another?_

As soon as Noah snuck out of the kitchen, he found himself sprinting towards the Snyder pond. Now that he knew Luke was safe, and taken care of, Noah found that he was beginning to grieve as well. Memories of Ethan floated up within him; the first time he had seen Ethan, watching Barney with him – had it only been three days? – and hearing Ethan call him 'No-wah.'

He barely made it to the pond before he sank to the ground, harsh sobs overwhelming him. He knew that he shouldn't cry, that he didn't have the right to cry, but tears still cascaded out of him. Noah pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his head on top of his knees as he wept.

Noah didn't know how long he was out alone by the pond, but he knew that he had been gone long enough that his absence would be noticed. He also found that he didn't give a damn. As if someone had been listening in on his thoughts, Noah heard soft footsteps in the grass heading in his direction.

Noah knew immediately that it wasn't Luke – his boyfriend wouldn't have bothered walking to him, but would have sprinted instead. When the person sat down beside him, Noah looked up and found himself looking into the face of the very prim, very proper, and very grieving Lucinda Walsh.

Embarrassed at being caught crying, Noah scrubbed at his face with his hand, hoping desperately to erase the signs of his crying jag.

"Darling, darling, don't do that." Lucinda fussed, plopping down in the grass next to Noah and latching her gaze on his. "You have every right to be as sad as we all do; you loved him just as much as any of us did." Despite the assured tone of her words, Noah could see that Lucinda was having a hard time not collapsing herself.

"I know, ma'am, it's just…." Noah tried to explain, opening his mouth before closing it several times. When moments ticket by and Noah had no response, Lucinda placed her hand on his cheek, cradling his face in the most maternal way.

"It's just what, Noah? It's not manly to cry? It's not masculine enough to mourn? You're supposed to dust your hands off and walk away?" Lucinda asked, shocking Noah with her insight into his emotions.

"Don't act so surprised, darling. I didn't become CEO of Worldwide because I was dense." Lucinda deadpanned, her voice sober. "Here's the thing, Noah Mayer. In every sense of the word, you are both a Snyder and a Walsh. We all love you as if you were our own. You're family. Do you know what that means?" When Noah didn't respond, Lucinda patted his cheek before continuing. "It means that you are allowed to be vulnerable. That means that if you're sad – cry. We aren't going to love you any less for it."

Noah had thought that he had cried himself out, but apparently not. Lucinda's words were causing his eyes to well up yet again, and he ducked his head to prevent her from seeing them. "Silly boy!" She stated, moving her hand to under Noah's chin to lift his head up. "Did you not listen to what I just said? Don't hide your emotions from us, darling, not now and not ever. Now, come here."

Lucinda slid an arm around Noah's shoulders and pulled him towards her, so that they were sitting side by side. She rubbed his arm comfortingly, and stared out at the pond. Noah, still in a state of shock over Lucinda's own brand of kindness towards him, heeded her words and allowed his tears to flow freely.

When the sun began to set over the pond, casting an orange hue on the landscape, Noah and Lucinda both stood up. Shyly, Noah looked over at her before reaching down and giving her a brief hug.

A startled laugh escaped out of Lucinda before she hugged Noah back, before clapping him twice on the shoulder in a rather business-like way. Taking that as his cue to release her, Noah smiled down at her and thanked her.

"The first rule about families, darling," she said as a reply, "is that you get to be vulnerable. The second rule? Never thank a family member. We are here for you; it's not a duty, it's what we want to do because we know that you would do the same for us."

Noah felt a warming in his chest, right where Ethan's absence had burned a hole. He knew that he was no where near done mourning, but maybe he would be able to build on that warmth. Having people behind him, having a _family_, made his future seem a lot more tangible, and just a little less impossible.

"Noah!" A frantic voice yelled, echoing across the open land. "Noah, where are you! Noah- oh." Luke walked over to him and Lucinda, smiling sheepishly with a tinge of pink gracing his cheeks. "I thought you left…"

"That's my cue to leave." Lucinda whispered in Noah's ear, pinching his cheek affectionately before leaving. Devoting his attention to Luke, Noah felt a rush of affection when he saw the blonde bashfully scuffing the ground with his foot, glancing up at him from under his eyelashes.

Taking Luke's hand, Noah pulled him to his side before wrapping his arms around him. Pressing his nose to Luke's hair, Noah inhaled the musky, spicy scent that was Luke and pressed a kiss into his hair.

Luke turned in his embrace until they were chest to chest, Luke's eyes looking up into Noah's. Their eyes were both bloodshot from crying, but neither cared.

""Noah?" Luke asked, his voice stating more than Noah thought was possible out of one word.

"I know." Noah replied, kissing Luke's mouth in a chaste, yet affectionate kiss. Pulling back, Noah reacquainted himself with every inch of Luke's face before feeling compelled to drop another kiss on those perfect lips… and another.

Controlling himself, Noah turned Luke in his arms so that Luke's back was pressed up against Noah's chest, and Noah's arms wrapped around Luke's waist. Luke quickly grabbed Noah's hands and wrapped them tighter, embracing them both in a hug. They stood there, watching the sun continue to set, enjoying the purely innocent moment in their lives – appreciating the rarity of it.

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	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer – Don't own them and I'm not making any money off of this, so don't sue?**

**Enjoy! **

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_Luke coughed as he struggled to undo his seatbelt and get out of the truck. He could hear Kevin's low gurgle of pain, but it was what he _**_wasn't_**_ hearing that scared him. Why wasn't Ethan yelling? Why wasn't he screaming, crying, or asking for help? His brother was always very vocal for a Snyder – and that was saying a lot. So why wasn't he making any noise?___

_Realizing he was pinned sideways in the truck, Luke managed to escape out of the open window, his muscles aching in protest as he did so. Once he was outside of the truck, he stumbled his way over to the passenger side of the truck, and attempted to reach over the roof of the truck to open the door. His side screamed in pain as he did so, and Luke was almost forced to stop. Ignoring the pain, using it to focus himself, Luke stretched his fingers and managed to open the door. ___

_Bolstering himself up on a conveniently located rock, Luke edged his head into the truck and looked down into his brother's face. Ethan's eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, and Luke would've been able to convince himself that Ethan had been taking a nap if not for the large gash on his forehead, and a trickle of blood running down his cheek. ___

_Luke tried to reach him, but he couldn't; he wasn't able to get a good enough grip to haul himself into the vehicle. Landing on the ground after his failed attempt to get inside of the truck, Luke turned around to find Holden standing in front of him, staring at him. ___

_"Dad, thank god you're here!" Luke babbled, running up to Holden in relief. "Ethan's in there – he's stuck and I can't get him out, and Kevin's in there too, and dad, I need help; get them out!" Luke glanced at the truck before turning his attention back to Holden. Staring at his father, he realized something was wrong. Holden had barely moved, and was staring at Luke in disgust.___

_"Dad… they need help, please!" Luke cried. He quickly gasped in shock as Lily stepped out from behind her husband, as if she had been there all along. "Mom! Ethan – he needs help! Plea-" Luke's voice faded into a whisper as he noticed that Lily had the exact same look in her eyes as Holden.___

_Before Luke could ask what was wrong, before he could beg for help again, Faith and Natalie materialized, as if from thin air, followed shortly by the rest of the Snyder clan. Aaron, Lucinda, Jack, Brad; they were all staring at him as if he was a bug on the sole of their shoe.___

_"Guys?" Luke asked, voice terrified and timid. "Ethan needs help, help him!" He knew that he was repeating himself, but he couldn't stop it.___

_"Why?" Holden whispered, his voice colder than Luke had ever heard it. "You killed him. It's your fault, Luke."___

_"No…" Luke whimpered, shaking his head. "He needs help…"___

_"You're always screwing up, Luke." This time Lily was talking, her words stabbing Luke in the chest like poison darts. "You killed my son; it's too late. He's dead, and it's your fault, Luke."___

_A murmur of agreements were issued by the Snyder's that were slowly moving closer to Luke, staring at him with eyes full of hate. Luke backed against the car, scared and ashamed, before a flash of dark hair caught his eye.___

_"Noah!" Luke screamed, running over to his boyfriend. "You have to help me! Ethan's in there and we need to get him out…" Luke's sentence trailed off as he saw Noah looking down at him in revulsion.___

_"Why?" Noah asked, "You killed him. He's dead and it's your fault, Luke. Just like how it was your fault when you killed my father."___

_"Noah, please." Luke begged for what felt like the thousandth time, hoping that someone, anyone would listen to him and help his brother.___

_"Luke….Luke…" Noah repeated, his tone contradicting the look on his face. He sounded almost, caring. Luke focused on it, feeling someone shaking him._

With a gasp, Luke jackknifed in his bed, covers flying everywhere. He barely felt Noah's hand on his forehead, gently stroking his sweaty hair away from his head. He was breathing harshly, trying to catch his breath.

Slowly, the knowledge that he had just been dreaming sent tremors throughout Luke's body. His impulse was to roll into Noah's warmth, but he was so damn sick of being weak, all the time. When he was with his family, he faked that he was alright. Faith and Natalie needed him to be their strong older brother, not the weak sissy that he was in reality. His parents had more than enough to deal with; they didn't need Luke crying to them like he was a child.

Noah, however… Noah was always there for him. And as much as Luke loved that, loved that he knew that he could lean on Noah whenever he needed to, he was tired of having to depend on him. He wanted to be the Luke that Noah had fallen in love with, the strong man that could take care of himself, not the weak boy that he had become. And if he was truly honest with himself, he was scared. Scared that Noah would become tired of always having to take care of him, and just leave.

Rationally, Luke knew that Noah loved him, and that he _wanted_ to be there for him, but he was tired of needing Noah, all the time. So instead of hugging Noah, pulling him close and relaxing into him, Luke rolled out of the bed and stood up. Luke's legs wobbled under him but he forced himself to stay upright through sheer will. He made his way over to the bathroom, opening the door and shutting it behind him.

Once he was alone, Luke pressed his back to the door, shutting his eyes and trying to erase the flashes of his dreams that were playing behind his eyelids. He couldn't remember the entire thing, only snippets. What was imprinted on his mind was the expression on Noah's face, and the words that he had said. "_ He's dead and it's your fault, Luke. Just like how it was your fault when you killed my father."_

Running a hand through his hair, Luke noticed how damp it was from sweat. Suddenly wanting, needing to feel clean, Luke stepped into the shower and turned the dial in the shower until the water was scalding hot. Feeling the water pelt his back, Luke closed his eyes and tried to calm his shaky nerves.

He was so absorbed in relaxing himself that he didn't even notice someone else had entered the bathroom until they were stepping into the shower with him. Turning around, Luke saw one naked, one wet, and one very concerned Noah Mayer standing behind him.

Luke opened his mouth, ready to tell Noah that he was fine, and that he didn't need to be coddled. He abruptly closed his mouth when he felt Noah wrap his arms around him, bringing them chest to chest without saying a word.

Luke stood stiff, waiting for Noah to start asking him questions, but gradually relaxed as he realized that Noah wasn't going to interrogate him. He rested his head in the crook of Noah's neck, wrapping his arms around Noah and clutching him to the point that it must have been painful. If it was, Noah didn't say anything; he merely dropped a kiss in Luke's hair, and tightened his grip.

After a long moment, Luke felt Noah's arms release him before turning him around, so that Luke's back pressed into Noah's chest. Seconds later, Luke heard Noah pop the cap on a bottle. Fearing that it was lube, Luke started to turn around to tell Noah that he couldn't; not today.

Before he could move, Luke felt hands in his hair, gently massaging shampoo into it. Sighing, Luke allowed his body to truly relax into Noah, into his lover. Although part of him was still wishing that he didn't have to rely on Noah to this extent, the larger, smarter part of him realized that Noah wouldn't have followed him into the shower if he didn't want to be there.

Luke felt the hands in his hair tenderly rinse out the shampoo, before adding conditioner. When that was rinsed out too, Noah slid his hands down Luke's neck onto his shoulders, where he started to rub out Luke's stress.

Luke moaned, tilting his head forward to allow Noah more room to work his magic. Although Luke felt Noah's touch everywhere, it wasn't sexual in nature. It was comforting; Noah giving something to Luke, something that no one else could.

When Noah finished his massage, Luke turned around and placed his hands on Noah's cheeks, pulling him forward for a soft and lingering kiss. The kiss was sweet, gentle, and everything that Luke had been missing in his life recently. They hadn't shared a moment like this since they were out by the pond after the Snyder's had returned home, and that had been over a week ago. Luke had missed this closeness fiercely.

They exchanged slow, lazy kisses in the shower until the water began to run cold, and Noah reluctantly broke the kiss. Reaching around Luke, Noah turned the water off before grabbing two fluffy towels off of the towel rack that was beside the shower.

Noah quickly wrapped a towel around his waist before handing one to Luke and opening the shower curtain. The air was so steamy that they could hardly see each other, so Luke grabbed onto Noah's hand so they wouldn't run into each other. Also, he wanted the connection to Noah that was there whenever they touched.

When they stepped back into Luke's room, Noah grabbed Luke's other hand and squeezed. "Luke," he said, the first word spoken since Luke had woken up from his nightmare, "If you need to talk about anything, I'm here for you, okay? I love you, and I don't want you to push me away. It hurts, and I know that you need me as much as I need you."

Luke hadn't considered that Noah would think that Luke didn't want him, and a stab of guilt pulsed through him. "I'm sorry Noah," he started out, hoping to explain why he ran away, "I just… I don't want you to feel like I'm always breaking apart. I want to be strong for you, for us."

Noah gently kissed Luke's temple. "Luke, you stupid, beautiful man. I. Love. You. I want to be here with you; there's no where else I'd rather be. Now, go get changed." Noah smiled, swatting Luke's butt as he walked away.

Luke smiled to himself, knowing that Noah was succeeding at his less than subtle attempt to lighten the mood. Luke dug through his clothes, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans and a striped shirt to wear. When he finished changing, he glanced over at Noah to see him pulling a shirt on, the muscles in his back rippling as he did so. _Why is he here with me, when he could be with anyone he wanted?_

Shaking off his question – Noah loved _him_ – Luke grabbed his phone and checked for messages. Seeing that he had several voicemails, Luke pressed the necessary numbers to check what it said. Luke deleted any messages that began with "I'm so sorry…" He hated when people apologized for Ethan's death as if it were their fault, and when people who didn't even know Ethan offered their condolences. Their words were empty, and Luke didn't want to listen to them.

After deleting five messages from various and unheard of Snyder's, Luke came across an official sounding message from the Oakdale PD, asking Luke to call them as soon as he had time. Luke frowned in confusion. _Why would they be calling me? Shouldn't they be contacting Lucinda, or at least my parents?_

As soon as Luke had informed Lucinda that the police believed that someone had screwed around with his car to make it break down, she had pulled some strings and brought 'the best of the best' in law enforcement to investigate the case. Of course, Oakdale PD was still officially heading the investigation, but Lucinda's cronies were doing a lot of the work, too.

Luke was about to call the station back, before setting down the phone and taking a deep breath. Before he dealt with anything to do with the police, he had to go check on Faith and Natalie, make sure his parents were alright, and contact Aaron to make sure that he had been able to book a flight to Oakdale.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when Noah tapped his shoulder in an attempt to catch Luke's attention.

"I have to go to Java," Noah said, his face downcast. "They need me today, and I tried to call off but I couldn't. Are you going to be okay without me, Luke?"

Luke forced a fake smile that he knew Noah would see right through. "Of course I'll be fine." Luke replied. "I'm going to go check on the family, and then I have to go talk to the police about some stuff."

"The police, again?" Noah responded, his voice dropping an octave. "Wait, I'll call Jeff; maybe he could cover my shift."

"No, Noah." Luke stated, reaching out and grabbing Noah's hand, stopping its descent to his cell phone. "I'll be fine; go! You've missed so much work already, and it's no big deal. Just some more routine questions, I think."

"Luke, are you sure? I don't want to go if you want me with you." Noah said slowly. When Luke insisted that it was okay, Noah dropped a quick kiss on his lips. "Call me if you need anything. I mean it, Luke." Noah insisted. "I don't mind. I love you, and I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

Nodding his head and managing a weak smile, Noah kissed Luke's cheek before leaving the room. Once he heard Noah walking down the stairs, Luke set his hands on his dresser and hung his head, ordering his thoughts and plans for the day. With a weary sigh, he straightened up and headed out of his room, shutting the door behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Luke pulled off his hoodie before violently throwing it to the far end of his bedroom. Grabbing a chair, he swung it around in front of him before straddling it, resting his chin on the back of it as he thought back to his conversation at Oakdale PD.

Remembering their accusations, how they believed that one of Luke's _friends_ broke into their car, Luke angrily stood up, finding that he couldn't stay still. Luke was partially angry at the police officers, but angry at the possibility that what they said could be true; that someone he trusted could have betrayed him.

He reached into his pocket to grab his car keys, but grabbed the wrong end. The sharp sting of the points of the key pressing into his palm surprised him, and he was shocked as he felt his anger slowly abating.

Pulling his hand out of his pocket, Luke squeezed the key, watching as his knuckles turned white. The more the key dug into his hand, the calmer Luke felt, until he had his emotions under control. Flashing back to his car ride with Noah, when he had scratched his nails into his leg, it dawned on Luke that pain was a way to keep his emotions in check. _Maybe I won't need to lean on Noah… maybe I can manage this myself._

Luke walked over to his desk and set the car key in its cup holder, glancing down at his palm before doing a double take. There were angry red marks littered across his palm. Luke cursed and walked over to the bathroom, hoping that he would be able to make the indentations disappear before Noah arrived home.

Running water over his hand didn't improve the marks, so Luke concocted a story about falling on some rocks before he headed back downstairs.

When he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, he heard someone walking around the room. Standing still, Luke realized that he only heard one person; if there were two people, Luke knew he would have been able to tell.

Worried that someone had left Faith or Natalie at home without telling him, Luke swung open the door to the kitchen and found himself gaping in shock. He was unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think. The person standing in the middle of his kitchen swung around, their eyes connecting with Luke's in shock and some other nameless emotion.

Luke, numb to the point that he couldn't think of anything witty or sarcastic to say, asked the one word that summed up everything on his mind; the one word that would answer all of his questions.

"Damian?"

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**Quick point!**** In this story, none of the events involving Damian from March 24, 2009 have occurred. Therefore, Luke hasn't seen Damian since he was in the airport in 2006.****  
****Let me know what you think! Reviews feed my soul, and my soul helps me write. Therefore, if you want more writing, review! **


	7. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer – I don't own anything you recognize, and I'm not making money, so don't sue, please.**

***Notes – Once again, many thanks to all of you that have taken the time to review! I really appreciate it.**

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"Damian?" Luke asked again, his voice colder than he had ever heard it before.

"Luke," Damian whispered, his voice carrying across the room, "I didn't know you were home."

"So what?" Luke asked, feeling the numb that surrounded him preventing him from reacting. There was no anger in his tone, no shock and no outrage – just a stony quality that didn't hint at what he was feeling. "You just decided, 'Oh, what the hell, why don't I just barge into Luke's life?' What the _hell_ are you doing in Oakdale, Damian?"

"I heard about…" Damian began, but he was quickly cut off by Luke.

"You heard about what? What, Damian – you heard about what?" When Damian mumbled something about Ethan's death, Luke felt the beginnings of emotions boiling within him, licking at his insides and begging to escape. "Ethan? You're here because of _Ethan_?" Luke asked, his voice slowly reflecting his growing rage. "You find out that my life has been turned upside down, and you decide what? To come to Oakdale and console your poor little ex-Grimaldi?"

"No, Luke! It wasn't like that!" Damian's accent grew thicker, a sure sign he was becoming more agitated. "I was called, and they said you were in an accident and there was a fatality! I had to come make sure you were okay!"

"Who called you?" Luke asked, the sliver of confusion overwhelming his anger.

"The police station; Luke, please listen to me – I want to make peace."

"What?" Luke laughed harshly, a sarcastic tone entering his words as he responded to Damian's plea. "You want to make _peace_, so you decide to fly here from Malta? Did you think that I'd just give you a big hug and we'd be best of friends? Damian, _no one_ wants you here." Luke rejoiced in the flinch that his words brought from Damian. "Not my dad, not my mom, and as sure as hell not me. So get lost like the vermin you are, and don't come back."

Luke felt the calm he had been maintaining since his incident with his car keys fading, and too many emotions to contemplate filling him instead. Anger, hatred, loathing, and more fear than he would care to admit to were filling his mind. Needing to shake it off and get back to his desperately needed calm, Luke dug his fingernails into his palm until the skin broke, reveling in the sharp sting of pain his actions brought him. He could focus, he could think – he could be in control of something; even if it was just his emotions.

Keeping his hand fisted and increasing the pressure, Luke barreled past Damian and head for the door, needing to escape. "Luke, listen!" Damian yelled.

Barely a foot away from the door, Luke wheeled around to face his 'father'. "Don't you _dare_ order me around, Damian." Luke stated, the passion in his voice causing Damian to take a step backwards in shock. "No now, not ever."

Before Damian could reply, Luke wrenched open the door, slammed it shut and headed for his car, before remembering that he had left his keys upstairs. Swearing to himself, Luke ran to the back entrance to the house and snuck upstairs, grabbing his keys. Hearing noise coming from downstairs, Luke stood stock still, listening. He heard the front door creak open before closing. Realizing that Damian had left, Luke took a shaky breath before exiting the house.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Noah saw Luke enter Java, his face white and movements jerky, he knew something had happened. _Oh god, is it to do with the investigation?_

Noah faked a smile and excused himself from the elderly customer he was serving before reaching out and grabbing Jeff's shoulder as he walked by. Noah quickly jerked his head at Luke as he whispered "I have to go see what happened; could you cover for me?" At Jeff's quick nod, Noah gave him a brief smile before heading over to Luke.

"Luke, what's wrong?" Noah asked as soon as he was close enough to the blonde for him to hear.

"Why does something have to be wrong?" Luke asked weakly, the pointlessness of the question astounding Noah. "Couldn't I have just come by to say hi?"

"Not when you're that pale." Noah replied, ghosting his hands over Luke's arms, his concern overwhelming him. "Talk to me Luke, please. What happened?"

"Could we… could we get out of here first?" Luke asked, feeling selfish for asking Noah to drop work, but _needing_ him too much to truly care. "I don't want to talk here." Noah nodded before grabbing Luke's hand and pulling him out of Java, heading towards Luke's car.

"Where do you want to go?" Noah asked. Luke started up the car and began driving as an answer. Noah desperately wanted to ask what was wrong for what seemed like the hundredth time, but refrained himself. He knew his boyfriend, and he knew that Luke would tell him what was going on when the time was right.

Noah was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize where they were going until they were pulling up into the driveway. "Luke… what are we doing here?" Noah murmured, looking around at the cottage. He hadn't been here since his faux-marriage to Ameera, and just looking at the cottage stirred up memories that were better left in the past.

"I needed somewhere to talk to you, and this is the only place I know he won't come… he might be at home, and I can't – I can't take you there if he's there.' Luke mumbled incoherently as he exited the car. Once he saw Noah follow suit, Luke fetched the spare key from under the doormat before unlocking the door and disabling the alarm system.

Noah cautiously followed Luke into the cottage, becoming increasingly worried as he wondered what could be so important that Luke would take him to this place; the house that had been their former hell.

"Damian's back." Luke spat out, as if the words were dying to escape. "He broke into the house, and he's back. Noah, he's _here_, in Oakdale, and…"

Noah stood motionless, trying to digest what Luke was telling him. Out of everything he had been dreading Luke would tell him, _Damian_ returning was not what he had been expecting. A shard of relief shot through him, shaming him. Here was his amazing boyfriend, falling apart at the seams because of his bio-dad, and Noah was feeling _thankful_ that nothing worse had happened?

"Damian?" Noah asked, confirming a fact he already knew. "What is he doing here?"

"He heard about 'what happened'." Luke said sarcastically, "and he wanted to come make it all better."

"Wait, what? Who told him?" Noah asked, sitting on the bed and patting the area beside him, indicating Luke to come join him.

Luke sat down next to Noah before telling him about the events that had taken place after Noah had left for Java. When Luke finished, he placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, hunching forward.

Noah had no idea how to handle the situation. Luke was acting so differently than Noah was used to; in control and yet not, angry while being calm. It was maddeningly confusing, and Noah didn't know what to say.

"Do you think... maybe he's sincere?" Noah asked slowly, gauging Luke's reaction. Luke instantly sprang off the bed and began pacing as he answered Noah's question.

"Noah, last time he was here, he tried to send me to a _deprogramming facility._" Luke began. "He nearly cost me everyone that I love; because of him, I thought my mother had abandoned me. I put her in a _coma_ because of him, Noah." Ignoring Noah's shocked look, Luke continued. "He told me he was dying, and I almost went with him to Malta while my mother could have died on me. He tried to kidnap me – twice. He's a – I don't even have the words."

Noah sat on the bed, knowing that he looked completely shocked, but unable to help it. _Lily had been in a coma? What?_

Luke continued to pace, and Noah could tell that he was working himself into a frenzy for the umpteenth time in recent days. Knowing that Luke needed to calm down, Noah shoved aside his personal questions and tried to comfort Luke, only to find that his words fell on deaf ears.

Reaching out, Noah grabbed Luke's hand and tried to pull Luke towards him. When Luke hissed between his teeth in what sounded like pain, Noah immediately released Luke's hand. "What happened to your hand, Luke?" Noah asked curiously, knowing that he hadn't grabbed Luke's hand hard enough to hurt him.

"N-Nothing," Luke stuttered out, turning around and walking towards a window in the cottage. Wondering why Luke was lying, Noah followed him before gently grabbing his wrist. Before Luke could react, Noah briefly scanned the back of his hand before flipping it over to the front. An involuntary gasp escaped him as he saw angry red cuts littered across Luke's palm.

"Luke, what happened?" Noah asked, wondering what could cause those kind of marks.

Luke pulled his hand away and curled his hands into fists before crossing his arms. "I fell," Luke began, "on some rocks."

Noah didn't know what hurt more; the fact that Luke was lying to him, or the fact that Luke thought that he would fall for such an obvious lie.

"Luke… why are you lying to me?" Noah asked, hating that he had to ask.

"I – I'm not!" Luke said, his lie painfully obvious. "I was running, and I fell and I landed on the gravel outside and cut my palm up. That's it, Noah." A steely note entered his tone, and Noah wondered what truth could be so horrible that Luke would lie to this extent.

"Okay, okay Luke… I believe you." Noah said, knowing that if he continued to argue with Luke, they would be at an impasse, and Luke would continue to push him away. With everything that had happened; with Damian being back, Noah knew he couldn't afford that.

"Good," Luke said uneasily before turning to face Noah. "Shit!" he yelled, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. "I have to tell my parents about Damian – they shouldn't have to find out like I did. Mom doesn't need that stress…" Luke trailed off as he speed dialed his parents.

Noah watched as Luke informed his parents of Damian's return, seeing the muscles tighten in his lovers face. _Luke, you shouldn't have to go through this._

Luke hung up the phone and noticed that Noah was staring at him. "What?" he asked, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

"Nothing," Noah answered softly, "Just thinking about how much I love you."

Something softened in Luke's eyes, and he stepped forward and gave Noah a short hug. "I love you too, Noah." Luke said, "I'm sorry if I haven't been saying it enough lately. I know I've been a pretty crappy boyfriend lately, and…"

"Luke." Noah cut him off, repeating himself for what felt like the millionth time. "I love you, and I know that you love me. I'm not expecting you to be perfect, or have roses and candlelight dinners for me right now. I just want you to let me _be_ with you, and for you to not shut me out of your life." The subtle jab at Luke's earlier lies didn't go unnoticed, but neither man decided to press the matter.

Luke looked around the cottage before abruptly changing the topic. "Noah…" he said, his pretend smile slowly shifting to something deeper as he stared up into Noah's crystal blue eyes. "You know… we're all alone, and there's a bed that's just waiting for us…."

Lust filled Noah's eyes, but his voice stayed steady as he asked "Luke? Are you sure you want to? There's a lot that's going on right now and…"

"Noah, that's _why_ I need to be with you." Luke began, his voice sounding more certain than Noah had heard it in weeks. "When I'm with you – when I'm touching you, it's the only time I feel like there's something right in my world. It's the only time I feel… I don't know, like there's something I can depend on to not change."

Unable to say no to that, Noah walked forward and grabbed Luke's hand, the hand he didn't 'fall on', before leading him towards the bedroom.

Crawling on the bed, Noah wrapped his arms around Luke and locked his gaze on his lips. A soft laughed rang throughout the room, causing Noah to snap his gaze up to Luke's eyes in curiosity. "What?"

"Remember last time we were here?" Luke asked. "With Ameera and everything; we've come so far, Noah."

"I know Luke, and we are never going back to that time, _never_." Noah smiled softly before leaning down to kiss Luke on the lips.

When he was literally a millimeter away from those perfect, soft lips, Luke's cell phone began ringing, causing the boys to both shut their eyes and wince.

"Can you ignore that?" Noah asked, knowing the answer but feeling like he had to ask anyways. Recognizing the look in Luke's eyes as a no, Noah muttered "Cockblocked again" before releasing him.

Luke's laugh bounced across the room as he ran for his phone. Noah felt heat rush into his cheeks as he realized that Luke had heard what he said, and he fell back against the bed with a dramatic sigh.

Long moments passed, and Noah realized that he hadn't heard Luke talking on his phone in quite a few minutes. He stumbled off of the bed and out of the bedroom, finding Luke sitting on the couch with his head between his hands.

"Luke?" Noah asked tentatively, taking measured steps towards his boyfriend. "What's wrong? Is it to do with Damian?" _God, what else could go wrong?_

Luke looked up at Noah, and the pain in his eyes sent shock lacing throughout Noah's body. "No, it was Constable Harrington; he was calling about the investigation." Luke said, the calm tone in his words belying his tense appearance.

Casting a glance over Luke, Noah noticed that his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Knowing how painful that must have been, Noah filed the information in his head before squatting in front of Luke and placed his hands overtop of Luke's. "What was he calling about?" Noah asked.

"Kevin's been released on bail." Luke said haltingly. "His parents paid his bail, and he's out." Luke dropped his gaze from their interlocked hands to Noah's face. "Noah, the police said he was doing drugs, too. He was drunk, and _high_, and he offered to drive me and my brother home. And now he's free because his parents could spring the money. Noah, how is that fair?"

"It's not, Luke." Noah said, rubbing his thumb against Luke's hand. "None of it is, and don't worry; Kevin's going to pay for what he's done, I promise."

"How can you promise that?" Luke asked.

"Because," Noah said, "No one is going to let Kevin get away with what he's done. Not your lawyers, not your family, and not you."

"Noah, do you think… do you think that Kevin made my car break down?" Luke asked, an unsure note clear in his voice.

"Honestly, Luke? No." Noah stated, noticing that Luke's shoulders relaxed the slightest bit at his confession. Thinking back to the election fiasco and Reg's death, Noah continued. "I think that Kevin fucked up, majorly. But I don't believe that he set out to hurt you or Ethan. That doesn't mean I don't think he needs to pay. I just don't think that he instigated this whole thing."

Luke didn't reply, but chose to instead grip Noah's hand tighter. Moments later, Luke broke the silence by saying "The police are fingerprinting my car. They think they might be able to find out who messed around with it."

"Really?" Noah asked, surprised. "Well that's good… isn't it?"

"I don't know, Noah." Luke confessed. "I mean on one hand, I want to know who did it. God, do I want to know. But on the other hand, what if the police are right?"

Noah knew that his confusion at Luke's reference to the police must have shown on his face, because Luke quickly backtracked. "Oh, you don't know about that, do you?" Luke asked.

"Know about what?" Noah asked, sharper than he meant to be. Squeezing Luke's hand in a silent apology, Noah listened as Luke told him about the possibility that someone he knew had damaged his car.

"Well, do you believe the police?" Noah asked, unsure of what else to say.

"I don't know, Noah, _I don't know!_" Luke whispered. "On one hand, I don't know who would do that. Who would want to hurt me that badly. On the other hand, Noah, what if it _was_ someone I trusted? What if… what if one of my friends betrayed me? Noah, how could I live with that?"

"Luke, it wouldn't be your fault." Noah stated, rushing straight to the heart of Luke's concerns. "How could it be?"

"Noah, if I trusted someone, and if my brother _died_ because of that trust…" Luke's sentence lingered on, saying what he couldn't. "How could that not be my fault?"

"First of all, you don't even know if it was a friend. Secondly, even if it was someone you knew, it wouldn't be your fault, Luke." Noah pressed his point, hoping he was getting through to Luke. "Would you tell me that everything my father's done is my fault?"

"No! Of course not!" Luke said before Noah even finished his sentence.

"Then how could anything a 'friend' did be your fault?" Noah said quickly, driving his point home. "None of this is your fault, okay Luke?"

"Okay." Luke said softly. "I'm sorry. I know we're always going over the same things, all the time."

"And we can continue to go over them until you truly get it, Luke." Noah said, bringing their entwined hands up to his mouth for a soft kiss. "After all, we have nothing but time."

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**Let me know what you thought? **


	8. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer – Make up something witty about not owning anything you recognize and insert here.**

*****Notes - I have no idea what the protocol is for someone who had an autopsy performed in a murder investigation, so I kind of made it up. If I messed up, let me know, but try to roll with it. Thanks!**

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Luke stared at his reflection in the mirror, his black suit a sharp contrast against his pale face and blonde hair. He smoothed his hands down the front of his suit before leaning closer to the mirror and studying his face. He absently noticed that the there were deep circles underneath his eyes, hinting at his sleepless nights. He had been having nightmares with increasing frequency as this date drew closer, and now it was here; Ethan's funeral.

Oakdale PD had finally returned Ethan's body – how Luke cringed at those words – and the date of the funeral had been set only days prior. The preparations for the funeral had taken up most of the older Snyder's time; Lily and Holden had been calling friends and relatives, Lucinda had been making arrangements, and Luke had been taking care of his sisters.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, messing it up, before exhaling slowly and leaving the bathroom. Walking into his adjoining bedroom, a smile flitted across his face as he saw Noah standing in the middle of the room, struggling to knot his tie.

"Can I help you with that?" Luke asked, allowing himself to be lost in Noah.

"I don't know; my boyfriend might get jealous." Noah teased, attempting to lighten up the soon-to-be sober mood.

The smile on Luke's face grew as it became just him and Noah; no funerals, no deaths, no nothing.

"Oh, I think I could take him." Luke mused. "Unless he's blonde and beyond gorgeous. Then I might have a problem."

"Well, you're going to have a problem there," Noah flirted back, "because that's the perfect description of my boyfriend." Leaning down, Noah gave Luke a soft kiss before pulling back.

"Here, let me help you with that." Luke said, bringing his hands up to Noah's neck as he adjusted the tie. When he had perfected the knot, he leaned forward and placed another kiss on Noah's lips.

"Luke, how are you doing?" Noah asked, swiftly changing the topic. "And don't lie to me."

"Honestly?" Luke asked, tilting his head up to look at Noah. "I've been dreading today all week, but my parents need – I need – this."

Luke saw Noah open his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut as Holden's voice rang throughout the house, asking everyone to come down to the kitchen when they were ready.

"I guess that's our cue to go." Luke sighed. "Listen, head downstairs; I'm going to go make sure the girls are ready." Luke said, patting Noah's cheek before heading to his sister's room to check on them.

"Faith? Natalie? Can I come in?" Luke asked as he knocked on the door. There was no reply, so he slowly pushed the door open.

His little sisters were sitting on their bed in their black dresses, motionless and looking as if everything they knew had been torn out from under them. The sight made Luke want to gather them in his arms and hug them tight, but instead he walked over to them, placed his hands on his knees, and bent down.

"Hey, hey, hey." Luke murmured, his voice causing Natalie's head to rise. "We've got to head downstairs, girls."

"Luke, I don't want to go!" Natalie said tearfully, jumping off the bed and into Luke's already open arms. Luke held her tight, feeling her heart beat against his and triggering his 'big brother instinct.'

As he hugged Natalie, whispering reassurances into her ear and rubbing her back, Luke watched Faith from over Natalie's shoulder, wishing she would look at him so he would be able to see how she was doing. Faith had been abnormally quiet since she had arrived home Paris with Lucinda. On some level, Luke knew that was to be expected, but he still wished that his little sister would show him _any_ of the spitfire energy that he loved about her.

Almost as soon as Luke's thought finished running through his head, Faith lifted her head with anger burning clear in her eyes. Baffled at what would cause her to be _angry_, of all things, Luke reluctantly released Natalie.

Focusing his attention only on Natalie for a moment, Luke placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Hey Nat," he began, "I bet that Noah's standing behind that door. Why don't you take him downstairs? You know he'll get lost without you." Inspired by Natalie's small giggle, Luke continued. "You can even," he mock whispered, "make fun of him for eavesdropping!"

Natalie nodded before walking over to the door, opening it to a guilty-faced Noah. She said something inaudible to Noah before grabbing his hand and leading him downstairs. Silently thanking Noah for being so perfect with his siblings, Luke centered his attention on Faith.

"Faith, what's wrong?" Luke asked, wincing internally as the question bounced across the room. _'Do I even need to ask?_

"What's wrong?" She asked, looking at Luke as if he had grown a second head. "What's _wrong_? Do you even have to ask, Luke? I thought you'd get it – I thought that you'd get what no one else in this damn house does, but apparently you don't." Faith shot off the bed and tried to maneuver past her brother, but was stopped as Luke shot out a hand and grabbed her by the elbow.

"Faith, language!" Luke scolded, the words lacking their usual bite. "But what is it that nobody gets, Faith?"

"This!" She yelled, slipping her free hand into her hair and tugging at it. "Ethan's _dead_, he's been murdered, and everyone's acting like it's not happening!" At Luke's surprised expression, Faith laughed scornfully. "Yes, I know about the 'investigation.' I'm not stupid, you know."

"No one ever thought you were stupid, Faith." Luke said softly. "And no one here is pretending that Ethan's not dead."

"Really?" Faith asked, her disbelief obvious in her voice. "So that's why mom and dad act like everything's okay? That's why you tell Natalie that she can go 'scold Noah', when she should be mourning her little brother? That's why everyone's just pretending nothing happened, when _everything_ did?"

Luke rocked back on his heels, in shock at the resentment he heard in Faith's accusations. _'Oh god, Faith, you have it all wrong.'_

"Faith, no one's pretending." Luke repeated. "Mom and dad… mom and dad are trying to be strong for this family. They think that you need to see them being strong, and they think that you need to know that you can depend on them and rely on them, no matter what."

"But don't they get it?" Faith asked, her voice wavering. "I _need_ to see that they're upset, too. I need to know that I'm not the only one who feels like I do.

"And how do you feel, Faith?" Luke asked, scared of the answer but needing to know.

Faith looked surprised that Luke had bothered to ask, before locking her gaze on his. "I feel like… you know those wind-up toys that Grandma would always buy us?" At Luke's slightly confused nod, Faith continued. "I feel like one of those toys. They probably just want to be still and not have to move, but someone always winds them up, and then they don't have a choice. They have to sing or dance or do _something_, because that pole that comes out of their back is turning and turning and it's making them move, even when they don't want to. Does that make sense?"

At Luke's gentle nod, Faith continued. "I don't want to be like those toys. I want to just lie on my bed and cry and remember Ethan, but I can't because people are winding me up and expecting me to be okay and happy, and I'm not okay and happy, Luke, I'm not, and I hate it that everyone's faking that everything's going to work out – I hate it!"

"I know sweetie, I know." Luke murmured, feeling his heart shatter as he pulled Faith into his arms. Feeling her body wrack with sobs against his, Luke wanted nothing more than to cry alongside her.

Knowing that despite her words, Faith needed him to be strong, Luke bit the inside of his lip until he tasted metallic blood in his mouth. Using the pain to prevent his tears from escaping him, Luke held his grief-stricken sister until her shaking body stilled.

Pulling back and allowing Faith to see his face, Luke let some of the pain he was feeling filter into his expression to show Faith that she wasn't alone.

"Faith, let's make a deal." Luke said.

"What?" She asked, her voice hoarse from crying.

"How about we don't hide how we're feeling from each other. If I'm sad I'll tell you, and if you're sad you'll tell me. We won't fake anything around each other; does that sound good?"

Faith nodded her head once, and Luke gave a faint smile before reaching down and smoothing her hair. "Luke?" Faith whispered, her voice oddly hesitant.

"Mmhmm?" Luke responded, giving his sister his full attention.

"Thank you, and… you know I love you, right?" Faith seemed almost embarrassed by her words of affection, ducking her head as she said them.

"Faith… of course I know that. And I love you too." Luke tried to keep Faith from seeing how much her words meant to him, before remembering the vow he made to her just moments before. '_Might as well start now,_ he thought, and allowed his emotions to be seen on his face.

Giving Faith a one armed hug, Luke left his arm around her shoulder. "Ready to go?

"No," Faith responded honestly, "But lead the way."

"Ethan Snyder was a happy child, one who would greet anyone with a smile." The parishioner said, his voice carrying throughout the white chapel. "He was loved dearly by many, and everyone here today will feel his absence."

Luke kept his head ducked between his knees, his hand unconsciously tightening its grip on Noah's. Luke had always hated funerals, but everything the priest was saying made him want to run up to the stage and snatch his microphone away.

Everything he was saying seemed so fake, so unlike the little brother that Luke had loved. Ethan had never been one to be described as a 'polite human being.' Ethan had been more likely to run around naked than he would be to shake someone's hand and say hello. The Ethan that Luke had known loved to have a mud fight in the puddles at Snyder farm, and would always have to be reminded to say 'please' and 'thank you'.

The priest continued to talk, unaware that every word that came out of his mouth grated on Luke's every nerve. His brother was being treated as if he was an average kid; there was _nothing_ mentioned about who he truly was, and Luke hated that.

If it wasn't for the steady pressure of Noah's hand on his, and for the fact that he knew he couldn't hurt his family, Luke knew he would've run out of the church. Instead, he focused his gaze on the dark green carpet between his feet, and tried his hardest to block out the words that were being blabbered before him.

A dull sobbing filled the room, echoing from Luke's right. Looking past Faith, who was sitting on his left, Luke saw his mother bury her face in Holden's black jacket. Holden's face was stoic, hardened to the point that it seemed as if it was made out of marble. Only when one looked into his eyes did that illusion disappear; the pain swirling in those light blue eyes could drown an army.

Tearing his gaze off of his parents, Luke shifted his attention to his sisters, who sat between him and Lily and Holden. Natalie had her face buried in Lily's side, but Faith was positioned similar to Luke, only she was looking straight ahead instead of downwards. Knowing how much harder everything was hitting her than she was letting on, Luke reached out his free hand and wrapped it around Faith's shoulder, pulling her close.

"Faith?" Luke whispered into her ear. "Don't pretend; feel what you're feeling, okay?"

A slow nod was Luke's only response, until he felt Faith leaning into him. Reluctantly releasing Noah's hand, Luke wrapped his arms around Faith and pulled her towards him until she was nestled into his side. The position was awkward, and he could already feel his back beginning to protest, but Luke wouldn't give up being with his sister for the world.

Luke felt a hand settle on his thigh, a thumb slowly rubbing back and forth. Feeling grateful for the contact with Noah, Luke set his chin on top of Faith's, meeting Holden's eyes as he did so. The two men exchanged a slow nod, their roles as the protectors of the family being well understood.

Luke continued to block out the words of the priest, finding it easier now that there was something far more important taking their place; his family. As long as he focused on them, he knew that he wouldn't feel as alone and desolate as he had been lately.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Forcing his face into a smile that didn't completely resemble a grimace, Luke turned around and faced yet another virtual stranger. The reception had started half an hour ago, and Luke was ready to scream. _This_ was what he hated about funerals; insincere apologies and even more insincere acceptances of said apologies.

"Thank you." Luke replied, wishing that he didn't have to _thank_ people for their apologies, but what would be an appropriate response? Ignoring them? Telling them that nothing they could say would bring Ethan back, so why should they try?

The stranger – Luke thought it might have been one of Ethan's former preschool teachers – nodded her head and walked off, heading for Holden and Lily. A wave of guilt washed through Luke as he saw his parents, so obviously hurting, but greeting people and faking that they were okay.

Wanting to go talk to his parents, and make sure that they were managing, Luke began to weave throughout the many people there - both Snyder's and friends. Luke kept an eye out for Noah as he made his way across the room as well; he had lost his boyfriend after Noah had gone to the bathroom just minutes ago.

Bumping into someone, Luke apologized before looking up, but the person had already continued moving towards the door. Curious, Luke strained his eyes after them, trying to catch a glimpse of who he had ran into. A flash of blonde hair caught his eye, and his breath was stuck in his throat. _He wouldn't… would he? Not today, not now._

Turning on his heel, Luke followed the man out of the church, hoping that it was not who he thought it was. The moment he stepped out of the gilded doors, Luke's anger doubled as he saw that his suspicions were confirmed.

"Damian!" Luke yelled out, watching as the other man halted in his tracks.

"Luciano." Damian's voice was hesitant, but without a trace of guilt, something that irked Luke.

"No. It's Luke. Not Luciano. And what the hell are you doing here, Damian?" As Luke spoke, he walked closer to Damian, until he was invading his personal space. "What could have possibly possessed you to come to my _brothers_ funeral? Are you that callous, that you would come and wreck this day?

"Lucia – Luke. I never meant to interrupt anything, and I would never, ever wreck your brothers funeral." Damian's face was the picture of sincerity as he pleaded to Luke, and that only served to increase Luke's anger.

"Then what did you come here for, Damian? If you didn't come to screw over the funeral, then what are you here for?"

"I wanted to pay my respects-" Damian was cut off by Luke's harsh accusations.

"Pay your respects? Damian, you didn't even know Ethan. Could you tell me what color his eyes were?" Silence was Damian's form of answer. ""You want to fuck around with my life? Fine, go ahead – you can't make it much worse. But stay the hell away from my family. My mom, my dad, my sisters; they don't need you here.

So fine. If you insist on staying in Oakdale, I really don't care. But come near my family, and I'm going to make your life a living hell." The threat in Luke's words was undeniable.

"Luke, I love you. You're my son, no matter how hard you try to deny it." Damian insisted.

Luke's laugh was harsh, and had a cold edge to it that caused Damian to instinctively take a step backwards. Luke quickly stepped forwards, using his physical presence to push Damian back, to make him _listen._

"I. Am. Not. Your. Son. You got that? I am a Snyder. And maybe your DNA is in me, but that's all it is. DNA. Holden Snyder raised me, and Holden Snyder is the only father that I've ever known, and will ever know. Don't flatter yourself, Damian; you were just the sperm donor."

"Luke, you don't truly hate me." Damian insisted, causing Luke to widen his eyes in disbelief. _Is he kidding me?_

You're right Damian, I don't hate you." At Damian's hopeful look, Luke continued. "In order to hate you, I'd have to feel something towards you, and you're not even worth that. I don't care about you; you could go be hit by a bus for all I care. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me."

A voice inside Luke's head that sounded suspiciously like Noah was chanting that Luke did care about Damian, despite all that they had been through – why else would Damian be able to get to Luke the way he did? But Luke firmly squashed that voice, unwilling to believe that his heart would care for this man when his brain wanted nothing to do with him.

"Now Damian?" Luke said. "I suggest you get lost before my dad shows up. As much as I'd love to see him kick your sorry ass, now isn't the time."

"I'll be back, Luke." Damian promised. "I'm going to set things right with you if it's the last thing I do."

Luke chose to ignore Damian's last words, heading back into the church instead. Luke mindlessly made his way back to where the reception was being held, not noticing Holden walking up to him until he was right in front of him.

"Luke, are you okay? Where'd you go?" Holden asked after embracing Luke, concern clear in his eyes.

"I'm fine dad… I just ran into someone outside, but it's no big deal. Come on, let's go." Luke tried to distract his father, but Holden wasn't having any of it.

"Who'd you run into, Luke? And why are you hiding this from me?" Holden asked, resting his hands on Luke's shoulders.

Luke took a deep breath before exhaling it slowly through pursed lips. "If I tell you, you have to promise me you won't get upset. Promise me, okay?"

"I promise Luke, now what's going on?" Holden asked, the concern in his voice morphing into worry.

"Damian was here." Luke decided to just spit it out. "He was in the reception, and I saw him and followed him outside."

"Wait, what?" Holden asked, astounded. "_Damian_ was here? Why? What on earth could that son of a bitch want?"

"I don't know, dad." Luke moaned, feeling guilty for unloading his problems on his father, but reveling in the comfort as well. "He said he was here to 'pay his respects' or something, but I don't know. I just want him gone, dad."

"Same here Luke, same here." Holden stared into the distance for a moment before he squeezed Luke's shoulders and changed the subject. "Luke? Thank you for watching your sisters. I know how hard this has been for you, and I want you to know that your mom and I, we really appreciate all you've done."

Luke found that he couldn't see through the sheen of tears that covered his eyes. "That's what big brothers do, right?"

"Right." Holden replied gruffly as he pulled Luke into another hug. Luke blinked back his tears as he embraced his father, allowing his tension to melt out of him. Holden patted his back, and Luke pulled out of the embrace to see Noah standing behind his dad.

Luke's stare must have alerted his dad that someone was behind him, because he turned around before embracing Noah as well. The look on Noah's face as Holden embraced him was beyond words; respect and awe mixed in with love.

Holden released Noah, turning around and glancing at each of the boys. "Now, I think we need to start clearing people out of here." Holden began. "Your mom is exhausted, and I don't think the kids can take too much more of this."

"I can help if you would like, Mr. Snyder." Noah responded automatically, before catching Holden's reproachful look. "Sorry, I mean Holden."

"That'd be great, Noah." Holden replied. "Luke, could you go gather your sisters and your mom? Tell your mom to take you and the girls home; I'll give Noah a lift when everyone's out of here."

"'Kay, dad." Luke sighed, stepping forward and pecking Noah on the lips. "See you at the farm in a bit?"

"Of course," Noah replied, "there's no where else I'd rather be."

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**I'm a total review whore; let me know what you thought?**


	9. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer – Don't own them, don't sue me.**

***Notes – This chapter completely gained a mind of its own! Hope you enjoy! **

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The drive from the church where the funeral had been held to the Snyder farm was quiet, yet not awkward. Holden focused on the road while Noah stared out the window, watching the trees pass by with an unusual fascination. The low hum of the radio filled the truck, the music soothing without being intrusive.

About five minutes into the drive, Holden broke the silence by clearing his throat. Noah looked up, curious as to what Holden would have to say to him after such an emotionally exhausting day.

Holden's eyes darted from the road to Noah's face, catching his gaze briefly before returning his attention to driving. Another long moment passed before Holden took a deep breath. "Noah, I don't know if I've said this yet… but thank you."

"For what, sir?" Noah asked, wincing as soon as the automatic 'sir' slipped out of his mouth. It was reflex, and yet Holden had made it clear that Noah was to call him by his given name.

Holden let the slip of the tongue pass, choosing to instead focus his attention on Noah's question. "For taking care of my son, and my daughters… you've meant more to them then they let on, Noah."

A brief smile whispered across Noah's face as he remembered the words that Lucinda had told him, just over a week ago. _"Never thank a family member. We are here for you; it's not a duty, it's what we want to do because we know that you would do the same for us."_

"You don't need to thank me, si- Holden. I love Luke, and I would do anything for him. And Faith, Natalie, everyone – they mean more to me than I can explain. I want to help out anyway I can, and it's not an obligation; I want to be there for them." Noah's voice was stronger than he had expected it to be, and he hoped that Holden could hear the sincerity in them.

Judging by the respectful look that had entered Holden's eyes, he did understand what Noah was trying to say. "I understand, Noah." The words should have sounded formal, but they didn't. Maybe the soft tone Holden used offset his words; Noah wasn't sure.

His musings were interrupted as Holden's low voice floated through the truck. "And Noah… there's some stuff I need to talk to you about. Stuff that I've put off talking about for far too long, but I need to make sure you understand. With everything that's been going on..." Here, Holden's forearm bulged as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, "I've realized that I might not have forever to make things right. So I wanted to start now.

"When Luke was in the hospital after the fishing trip with you and your father, I wasn't as welcoming to you as I should've been. I acted as if I blamed you for your father's mistakes, and I'm sorry for that, Noah." Noah knew that his jaw was hanging open, but he couldn't shut it. Out of everything he had been preparing himself for, _that_ was the last thing he had expected to hear.

Realizing that Holden was going to continue, Noah refocused his attention on him. "I should know better than anyone that a man should never, ever be judged by his father; just look at Luke. Damian is a complete bastard, someone who the world would be better off without, and yet Luke is a fine young man. I would kill anyone who said that Luke was part Damian, just because of genetics. And yet I let you assume that I was judging you in the exact same way. So Noah, I hope that you will accept my apology, and know that I consider you as another son."

Noah found that he had to swallow several times before he was confident enough in his ability to answer. "Holden, there's nothing to forgive. Your son had been _shot_, and I was partially to blame. If I hadn't taken him on that trip with me and my father-"

"No." The quiet authority ringing in Holden's word caused Noah to snap his mouth shut. "None of that was your fault, ever. You were what, seventeen? You trusted your dad, just as any teenager would. Your father, he betrayed that trust in the worst way possible. So unless you are going to tell me that it was your fault because you were being human, go ahead and try. But believe me when I say that no real father would _ever_ do that to his child, and you are not responsible for that man's actions."

Although Noah had heard the words "It's not your fault" a million times, he had never truly believed them. But with the way Holden said everything… how could he blame himself? He didn't choose to lift that gun, he didn't choose to pull the trigger – he didn't choose any of it. So why should he have to carry the guilt around?

"Hey, hey Noah, I didn't mean to make you cry. Shoot, I'm sorry." Holden's words were edged with remorse, and Noah was quick to raise his head to correct him.

"No, I'm not upset, it's just that… thank you, Holden." Taking a deep breath, Noah raced out his last words before he chickened out. "You've been more of a dad to me in these few years than my father was in his entire life."

Noah saw a glimmering in Holden's eyes before he reached out and tousled Noah's hair. The action was so natural, so instinctive, that Noah felt as if he _belonged_.

"Now, Noah," Holden said, changing the topic, "I need to ask you something about Luke."

"Luke? What about him?" Noah asked, his emotionally-husky voice gaining a note of worry. "Ask me anything."

Holden didn't respond immediately, choosing to switch his turning lights on and pull off of the abandoned stretch of road they were travelling on. He shifted the truck into neutral, but left the truck running as he turned to face Noah.

"Now, don't get me wrong Noah, I trust my son." Holden began, his gaze burning into Noah's with sincerity. "But above all, I _know_ my son, and I know how he reacts when he's upset. If I ask you something, do you swear you will give me the truth?"

"Of course sir," Noah began, before correcting himself. "Unless I believe that it would harm Luke more than it would benefit him if I told you. I have to watch over him first, always." Noah hoped Holden understood that his obligation was always to Luke first.

"I can respect that." Holden said, reassuring. "But Noah… has Luke been drinking?

As much as Noah wished that he could say that the question had surprised him, he couldn't. He had a feeling that Holden had been wondering; not out of distrust, but out of love.

"No sir, he hasn't, I promise you that." Noah said slowly.

"But?" Holden asked, catching at the hinting quality in Noah's voice. Once again, Noah had been expecting the question, and shut his eyes as he relayed what had happened to Holden.

"It was three days after the accident, I think." He began, thinking before speaking. "I had gone out to do something for Emma; run to the store for food, I think? There was construction being done on the road, and I took a lot longer than I had expected.

"I remember I came back into the house, and Emma was outside. I put the groceries away for her, and then I went up to Luke's room to see how he was doing."

"How was he?" Holden asked in a voice scarcely louder than a whisper, trepidation and more than a bit of fear filling his voice.

"He was sitting on his bed… there was a bottle of vodka beside him." Noah could see it in his minds eye, the way that the bed shifted to accommodate Luke's weight, the way that the bottle of vodka was wedged between the covers.

"Was it… was the bottle open?"

"No." Noah's voice was sure. "The seal was still intact – I checked."

"Then what was he doing with it?" Holden's voice reflected his confusion, mixed in with that everlasting worry.

"That's what I asked him." Noah responded. "I remember how _sad_ I felt, knowing the amount of pain it must have taken to drive Luke to alcohol." Realizing the emotional confession he had unintentionally expressed, Noah opened his eyes and lifted his head, catching Holden's eyes with him. To his surprise, there was no judgment in Holden's eyes, and no disgust that he felt 'sad'. Instead, there was understanding and sympathy in those light blue eyes.

Feeling emboldened, Noah continued. "He said that he just wanted to forget, and he knew that he could do that with alcohol. He told me that as badly as he wanted to just drink everything away, he couldn't because he knew that it would be the last thing Ethan wanted. And he said that he knew he had to stay strong for his family." Noah left out the part where Luke was crying uncontrollably on his shoulder, and when he had fallen asleep with tears still running down his cheeks. There were just some things that needed to stay private.

There was a long silence in the truck, only broken by the rhythmic breathing of the men. Just when Noah was about to ask if everything was okay, Holden lifted his head, a mixture of pride and regret written on his face.

"Noah… thank you for telling me this. I just – I need to know that Luke's doing okay. I need him to stay with us emotionally, and not find some substitute for his pain."

Noah cast his eyes downward, hiding the thought that suddenly struck him. Thinking back, Noah remembered the marks that he had noticed on Luke's palm only days prior. Noah had meant to figure out what could cause those kind of scratches, but had forgotten with all that had been going on. _Those must have been painful… how could he have gotten them?_

Noah curled his one hand into a fist, before resting his other hand on top of his knuckles and bringing them up to his chin, resting upon them. He absently noticed that his fingernails dug into his palm. _Wait!_

Noah mumbled something to Holden, too focused in his revelation to truly think an answer through. He knew that Holden must have realized that Noah was preoccupied, but chose not to question it. Instead, Holden turned down the radio and waited, patient as he always was.

Looking down at his hand, Noah began to tighten his fist, digging his nails into his palm until his palm was burning. Releasing the tension that had built up, Noah shook his hand before flipping it over and examining the marks. They matched some of the ones that Luke had had on his hand perfectly, except Noah's were far fainter than Luke's had been.

Noah tried his experiment again, noticing that he had to stop before he broke the skin due to the pain of it. _How much would it have hurt Luke to do this? And why would he lie about it?"_

Suddenly remembering that Holden was waiting for an answer, Noah brought his free hand to rub at his palm as he organized his thoughts. "Holden."

"Yeah?" Holden asked, caught off guard by Noah suddenly talking again.

"I can't guarantee anything… but I think we need to watch Luke." Noah didn't want to scare Holden, but he also didn't want to accuse Luke of doing something until he was sure that it was the truth.

"What for?" Holden asked, trusting whatever Noah was going to tell him.

"Just… just tell me if you see any marks on him, okay?" Noah knew that his statement was more confusing than any answer should be, but it was all he could give the other man.

"Marks, like cuts and stuff?" Noah felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he realized that Holden had read between the lines, and that he was no longer the only one responsible for Luke. As much as he loved taking care of his boyfriend, some problems were just too big and too scary for him to tackle alone.

"Yeah… like that." Noah said back, his relief clear in his voice.

"Alright, Noah. I have no idea what this is about, but I want you to know that I trust your opinion. If there's anything wrong with Luke – or with you – you can always talk to me. Okay?" Holden's eyes seemed to burn into Noah's with their sincerity.

"Okay," Noah said softly, feeling as if maybe he had regained a father of sorts as Holden started the truck and continued to drive to the farm.

When they pulled up to the house, Holden killed the engine on the truck and leaned his head on the steering wheel. Noah could've asked what he was doing, but he was pretty sure that he already knew. Just as Noah was doing silently, Holden was preparing himself to put his 'strong face' back on and face his family.

Overwhelming emotions rushed over Noah as he watched Holden morph from a worried father to an in-control family man, one who would do anything to help the ones he loved – including repressing his own emotions. Noah felt guilty for the rush of longing that hit him. He longed for a father as selfless as Holden was. Quickly, another thought popped into his mind. _You do have a father like Holden… you have him._

Allowing that knowledge to soothe an area in his heart left battered by the Colonel, Noah opened the car door and shut it quietly, allowing Holden a moment of privacy. Noah was about to head back to the house when he heard shouting coming from Snyder pond.

Recognizing Luke's voice, Noah headed there, before picking up speed. He sprinted the last fifty feet to the pond, before stopping dead in his tracks as he saw who Luke was with. Turning around, he ran back to the truck, where Holden was just about to get out.

Noah felt more than a little bit guilty for dumping yet another problem on Holden, but knew that Luke's father would rather know than not know.

"What is it?" Holden asked as soon as Noah was within hearing range.

"Holden… there's someone by the pond." Noah explained who was there, watching as Holden's face darkened in fury.

"He better get his damn ass off my property, or I'm going to throw it off for him." Holden had barely finished his threat before wheeling around and sprinting to the pond towards his son, Noah close behind him.

**Let me know what you thought? Reviews are love, and I truly appreciate every single one.**


	10. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer – Don't own them, don't sue me.**

***Notes – Hope you enjoy!**

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"Mom, I can watch Faith and Nat until Dad gets home, promise. It's not like I have anything better to do anyways." Luke lied through his teeth. Although he would've done anything to take Shadowdancer out for a long, hard ride, he knew that his obligation was always to his family first. He could put his own stress away for a few hours if his sisters needed him.

"But Luke…" Lily protested half heartedly, her conflict painted across her face. Luke could tell that she wanted nothing more than to be alone to just think, but was too stubborn to let herself leave her kids alone.

"Mom, it's fine. You won't do any good if you're dragging yourself around here. Go freshen up; we'll be okay." Luke saw that his words struck a chord in his mother, and watched as her stubbornness drained out of her. For the first time, he truly realized how fragile his mom was, and how she was holding onto herself by a thread.

Keeping his emotions from showing on his face – a first – Luke gave his mother a lingering hug before she headed up the stairs to her room. Watching her walk away, he felt his heart break a little at the pain she showed in her every step. She hid it well enough when his sisters were around, acting almost painfully pretend-happy at times, but it was the moments when she just let herself go that her hurt shined through.

When the door at the top of the stairs creaked shut, Luke glanced down at his black, somber clothes and felt the need to get out of them – to get rid of every reminder of the funeral. Not wanting to go upstairs and disturb his mother, Luke went to the laundry room and grabbed a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Throwing them on, he headed to the living room to see where the girls had gone.

Luke found them sitting in front of the television, staring at the floor as some infomercial blared on. They had changed out of their funeral clothes, and looked so much younger for it. Faith was wearing jeans and a loose fitting top, while Natalie was in her favorite pair of pajamas.

Not wanting the girls to be inside the house, Luke walked over and turned off the TV. "I was watching that!" Faith protested half heartedly.

"Really? What was the show about?" Luke asked, a small smile crossing his face as Faith struggled for an answer.

Moving forwards until he was standing right in front of the couch, Luke extended a hand to each of his sisters, holding it at their chest level. "Come on, girls," he began, "let's go out to the pond."

"Why?" Natalie piped in, the first words that Luke had heard her say since they left the church.

"Because it's better than sitting here, staring at the floor." Luke had planned on lying, saying that there was something grand going on outside, but found that he couldn't. Between lying to Noah about cutting his hand - something that shouldn't have even been a big deal – and lying about the investigation, Luke found that he owed his sisters even the smallest bit of honesty.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt two hands clasp his, one small and confident, the other larger and more hesitant. Luke enfolded each hand with his own, squeezing comfortingly before pulling his sisters off of the couch and leading them outside.

They were over halfway to the pond when Luke saw someone sitting at the pond, resting at the top of the incline. As they grew closer, details became more discernable, until Luke could clearly see a blonde head. _Damian? Again?_

Ten more steps, and a red and white hoodie that Luke had seen countless times on campus suddenly filled his vision. He crossed his arms as a subconscious defense mechanism as the realization hit him. _No… no, he wouldn't, no…_

Visions of the accident filled his mind – flying down the embankment, hearing his brother scream in the backseat, feeling his body jerk within the restraints of a seatbelt. He didn't realize that he had stopped walking until he felt Natalie tugging on his hand, asking why they had stopped.

Luke couldn't decide if he wanted to run and hide from Kevin, or if he wanted to go _make_ him feel the pain that had been coursing through his body for the past two weeks; as if that was possible. What he knew he had to do, however, was to get his sisters back inside the house before they realized what was going on.

"Actually, Natalie, I forgot something in the house. Could you go get it for me?" Luke was shocked that his voice came out steady, and yet not. He was so angry that an icy numb had settled over his body. A sharp pain shooting from the outside of his upper arm quickly informed him that it was more than rage that was making him numb. When he had crossed his arms, he had reflexively dug his nails into his arm.

A flicker of warning shot through Luke; _if I don't realize I'm doing it, than maybe I need to stop?_, before he quickly shook his head and refocused on the situation before him. Despite his apprehension over what he was doing to his body, Luke continued to press his nails into his arm – after all, it did keep him calm. And calm was something he was going to need a lot of.

"… do you need, Luke?" Luke only caught the last half of Natalie's question, and began to frantically think of something he would need her to get from the house that would keep her from coming outside for a while.

"Luke forgot his iPod." Faith's voice broke through the quiet, the assured tone to it something that Luke wasn't sure he could've been able to fake. "He's going to stay here and clear us some space by the pond, and we'll go back and find his iPod, 'kay Nat?"

"But Faith! That's in Luke's room, and you know how messy it is!" Luke caught Faith's eye as Natalie whined, trying to thank her and explain the situation to her without words. Faith just gave a slow nod as a response, grabbing Natalie's arm and leading her back to the house.

Luke was struck by the realization that his sister was growing up, so much faster than she should have to, but pushed it away as he saw the blonde head in the corner of his vision.

He walked up to Kevin silently, not saying a word until he was only feet away from him. Luke wanted to say something striking, something that would make Kevin wince, but there was only one word that he found himself capable of saying. "Why?"

Kevin's entire body jerked before he jumped to his feet and turned to face Luke. When he glanced at Kevin's face, Luke couldn't stop himself from letting out a small gasp. Kevin looked like shit. His eyes were bloodshot; he was pale, bruised, and so gaunt that it looked as if a breeze could push him away.

"Luke, I'm so sorry, I-I" Kevin's word had a tone of desperation to them, and Luke kept his arms crossed, pressing his nails into his arm harder to keep himself from attacking the man… for now, anyway. First, he needed an explanation.

"You what, Kevin? You what?" Luke mocked, the undisguised loathing in his voice causing Kevin to wince. "You came to apologize? You came to tell me that you're so, so sorry for getting wasted, and _high_, before offering me a ride home _with my little brother?_"

"Luke, I wouldn't have if I had known!" Even though his words made no sense, Kevin's voice was strong, and Luke found that he hated him for it.

"How do you not know, Kevin? How do you not realize that you're drunk, and high? How?!" Luke hated how distraught his voice was in comparison to his ex-friend's, but even more, he hated how a small part of him wanted Kevin to give him an explanation that would make everything make _sense_. It made no sense that Kevin would risk hurting Ethan the way he had, even if he was drunk, even if he was high. Kevin had loved Ethan like a brother – so why would he do what he did?

Kevin took Luke's abrupt silence as an opportunity to explain himself. "Luke, I wasn't drunk, and I didn't get high willingly!"

Any hope Luke had that Kevin was going to tell him the truth vanished like smoke, and Luke's brief disappointment quickly morphed to anger. "How fucking stupid do you think I am, Kevin?" Luke found himself yelling, screaming – unable to stop himself. "Do you think I'd believe that you were just _happened_, and someone _forced_ poor Kevin to do some weed?"

"Luke!" Kevin protested, further enraging Luke. Before he knew it, he was screaming at Kevin, the kind of words that he thought he'd never hurl at another person, yet alone someone that used to be his friend. He couldn't stop, didn't stop, until he felt hands on his shoulders, pulling him back into an embrace.

The shock of being in Noah's arms only lasted for a heartbeat, and then Luke was fighting against his restraints, trying to get to Kevin, to give him the slightest hint of the pain he had caused.

"Stop fighting me, Luke." The words were murmured in his ear, with a quiet authority to them that Luke faintly recognized as Noah's 'in control' voice. Instead of heeding to the demand in those words, Luke redoubled his fight to break away from Noah, and to reach Kevin.

A flash of black caught his vision, and Luke paused his movements long enough to recognize that his dad had arrived, still in his funeral suit. His unconscious relief at that fact was tempered by Noah releasing him. The shock of not having someone hold him back caused Luke to nearly fall, before he doubled around and looked at Noah, a world's worth of confusion written on his face.

Noah wasn't looking back at him, though. His eyes were locked on Holden, who was mouthing something to him. Noah nodded once before releasing Luke and whispering "Stay out of it," into his ear. Before Luke could say a word, Noah was doubling back to the house, sprinting faster than Luke knew he could.

Luke's confusion was shortly cut off as Holden's words rang through the air. "You have ten seconds to get the hell off of my property." Holden's voice was filled with an unexplainable emotion, something caught between rage and hatred.

"Mr. Snyder, I-" Kevin was cut off yet again, but this time by father instead of son.

"Ten seconds." Holden walked forward until he was standing uncomfortably close to Kevin. Luke absently noticed that although Kevin flinched from Holden's proximity, he didn't step backwards to put more space between them.

"It's to do with the investigation!" Kevin's words merged together as he spat them out, in a rush to speak before he could be cut off. Holden stood his ground, and any emotion was slowly drained from his face, leaving him looking as if he was carved from stone.

"Kevin, you're the reason that my son is _dead_." The words were more painfully true than anything Luke had heard since the accident, and his shock almost caused him to fall to his knees. "So you know what? I don't want to hear a damn thing you have to say. I don't want to see you, or know that you're _here_, near my family, ever again. Now, Jack is going to be here any second now. You can get lost, now, or I'm going to have you arrested for trespassing."

As if his words were a cue, Noah ran up to Luke and enfolded him in his arms, while Jack made a beeline to Kevin, who was standing dead still with his eyes darting around. Luke forced himself to look away from those unfocused eyes, choosing to turn and bury his face in Noah's sweater instead.

Even though his face was pressed into Noah's chest, Luke heard a muffled yell; heard Jack begin to haul Kevin away. His relief that Kevin was _gone_, heading back to the jail that he belonged in, sent Luke's head spinning. Not in relief, or happiness, but in the knowledge that in a world where everything was going wrong, maybe this one thing would go right.

Inhaling Noah's comforting scent, Luke lifted his head up and craned his neck, so that he was looking at Jack and Kevin. His eyes caught on his former friends, and something inside Kevin seemed to snap.

He struggled against Jack's grasp, trying to break free. "I didn't do it, Luke!" Kevin's words took a hysterical edge to them, and his eyes were so wide that it seemed as if he were trying to force Luke to believe them. "Look at the drug screen!" Kevin screamed, "I was drugged, it wasn't my fault! It wasn't! IT WASN'T!"

Kevin went ballistic, and Luke couldn't help it; he shrunk back into Noah, allowing his boyfriend to hold him tight. Jack, who didn't have handcuffs on him ]since he had just come from the funeral, struggled to keep Kevin from breaking free.

Luke caught his father's eye, only to see that there was no trace of the man that had raised him in those light blue depths. There was a coldness, a hard fury that Luke had never seen present in Holden before. He knew that was the reason that Holden didn't attempt to help Jack restrain Kevin; his control over himself was so tenuous, so fragile – he didn't know if it would hold.

Long moments later, Kevin and Jack were finally out of sight. Luke, Noah, and Holden stood by the pond, motionless, as if a spell had been cast and they couldn't fight against it. Despite the fact that Luke's world had been shifted on it's axis yet again, nothing had changed; the breeze still blew, the smell of grass was still on the wind, and the sun was still shining.

Reaching down and grabbing a loose rock, Luke threw it into the pond, taking perverse satisfaction in the ripples that broke up the once stagnant waters as the rock hit it. He continued to throw whatever he found on the banks into the water until he felt a hand grab his fist as he reached his arm behind his head yo throw. Expecting it to be Noah, Luke turned sharply with a harsh retort on his lips; a retort that quickly died when he saw his father staring at him.

They held gazes for a long moment, before Luke ducked his head. "Dad, I'm sorry," were the first words that came out of his mouth. "I didn't know he'd be here, I should've known… Dad, why was he here?" Luke hated how young his voice sounded, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Holden had no reply, just as Luke had expected. Instead of bullshitting an answer, or changing the subject, Holden simply reached up and ruffled Luke's hair. The action was out of context, out of place, and yet nothing seemed more natural in the world.

Luke wordlessly lifted his head, and allowed his father to sling an arm around his shoulders. Together, they began to walk to Noah, who was standing by the edge of the pond, alone.

"Noah," Luke called out softly, "are you coming?" Noah looked like he was surprised that they had remembered him, and Luke felt something in him mourn for the damage Noah's upbringing still had on him. Refusing to dwell on pity, Luke broke free of his father's grasp to walk over to his boyfriend, grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers.

Pulling Noah behind him, Luke walked back over to his dad and nodded at him, ever so slightly. Taking Luke's hint, Holden walked around to Noah, and set a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. Noah's eyes clouded, and a slow breath could be heard in the otherwise silent field.

The three began to walk back up to the house, hoping that Kevin would be gone while knowing that the trouble he had brought wouldn't. Keeping his gaze centered on the grass below him, Luke missed how Noah looked as if he were contemplating something, turning it over in his mind. When he did bring his gaze up to Noah's face, he saw a brief flash of guilt that was quickly covered up.

Not wanting to press the issue, figuring Noah would talk to him if he was feeling guilty about anything, Luke stroked his thumb over Noah's hand. The action soothed him, helped him focus. As Luke saw Lily fly out of the house, heading for Jack, he knew that he was going to need all the soothing he could get.

**Drop a review, let me know what you thought? I'd really appreciate it!**


	11. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer – If I owned the show, it would play out a lot differently than it does.**

***Notes – Sorry for the delay of this chapter! Internet problems suck, but I'd like to shout out to everyone that's been reviewing this story! I don't reply, mainly because I don't know if people want me too. So if you would like for me to give you a shout back to your review, just say so and I will! Anyways, here's your chapter, hope you enjoy.**

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"Can I speak to Constable Harrington?" Noah's voice sounded shaky to his own ears, and he knew that the receptionist would hear his hesitancy.

"What do you need to talk to him about?" The receptionist was clearly bored, her blonde head bent low over a magazine that was splayed on her desk.

"It's to do with Eth- Ethan Snyder." Noah stumbled over the name, finding that it could still bring a lump to his throat.

The receptionist's shoulders stiffened before she looked up, a world's worth of sympathy in her hazel eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't know who you were… I'll get the Constable down immediately. Just one second." The receptionist – Anna, her name tag stated – quickly stood up and walked to a telephone, where she dialed a number and mumbled into the receiver.

Noah, who was expecting it to be several minutes before Anna was able to take him to Harrington, sat down in a plastic chair and laced his fingers together. Staring at them, he thought back to the farm and hoped that everyone was doing okay; that Luke was doing okay. He _hated_ the fact that he had left, but he knew that he had to talk to the Constable. Something about Kevin's story rang true in Noah, and he knew he owed it to himself to see if Kevin's accusations were true – if he had been drugged.

Thinking back, Noah remembered how he had tentatively brought up the idea that Kevin hadn't been lying to Luke, only to be quickly shot down. "Drugged?" Luke had laughed, a hysterical edge to his voice. "He was just trying to save his own ass, Noah. That's it."

Although Noah hadn't agreed with his boyfriend, he recognized that Luke was barely holding onto himself, and had let the matter go. That was also why he was at the police station without Luke's knowledge; his boyfriend thought he had to go to Java for an emergency shift. _Luke must be out of it if he thinks I would take a shift at Java right now, with all that's going on..._

"Excuse me, sir?" A feminine voice knocked him out of his thoughts, and Noah looked up to see Anna hovering above him. "Constable Harrington is out of town; I don't know when he's going to be back. Would you like me to leave a message for him?"

Noah frowned to himself, thrown by the fact that Harrington had left town in the middle of an investigation. Sighing, he resigned himself to leaving a message before he saw Dallas walk by. _Maybe I could talk to him instead?_

"Thanks, but I'll just talk to him later." Noah mumbled, his gaze focused over Anna's shoulder on Dallas, who was pouring himself a cup of coffee from an ancient coffee machine. She must have noticed, because she didn't reply, choosing to pat Noah's shoulder before walking back to her desk.

"Dallas!" Noah yelled, relieved when the man turned around to see him and smiled. Jumping off of the seat, Noah loped over to Dallas before stopping abruptly, unsure of how to continue.

A short, awkward silence fell over the two men before Dallas reached his hand out. Noah clasped his hand and shook it, but the gesture felt too formal for the man that had helped him through all of his past shit with his father. Preparing himself for embarrassment, Noah stepped forward and gave Dallas a brief hug, clapping him on the back.

Pulling back, Noah met Dallas's eyes and realized that he was okay with Noah's impromptu hug. "What can I help you with today, Noah?" Dallas asked.

"It's to do with Kevin… Kevin Davies," Noah began, watching as Dallas's demeanor changed from friendly to business-like. "I wanted to talk to Constable Harrington, but since he's not here right now, I was wondering if I could talk to you instead."

"Follow me." Dallas's words were brisk, but Noah didn't take any personal offense to it. Dallas led them to a small, cluttered office. Grabbing a chair from behind his desk, Dallas spun it around and straddled it, resting his head on wooden back, motioning for Noah to do the same with another chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"So Noah, what do you need to know about Kevin?" Dallas spat out Kevin's name, his loathing for the man obvious. "Is it to do with the trespassing charges?"

"No," Noah began, before abruptly changing his mind. "Actually, that's part of it. Is he being held in a cell right now?"

"I'm telling you this as a friend, not a cop, okay?" Dallas clarified. At Noah's nod, he continued. "He's going to be held for twenty-four hours, until his parents bail him out - again." Dallas snorted and rolled his eyes, disgusted. "Why?"

"Did they run a toxicology report after the accident?" Noah asked, avoiding Dallas's question.

"A tox screen?" Dallas asked, seemingly thrown by the random question. "I think so, to check his blood alcohol level. One second…" Before Noah could say a word, Dallas had exited the office. Moments later, he reappeared with a file that Noah recognized from his and Luke's meeting with Constable Harrington.

Not noticing Noah's look of recognition, Dallas flipped through the file until he pulled out an official-looking paper. "Found it! So yes, they most definitely did a tox screen." Looking up, Dallas met Noah's eyes. "What's this about, Noah?"

"I need to know whether any drugs showed up on his tox screen." Noah kept his gaze locked onto Dallas's, even though the intensity in the other man's eyes made him uncomfortable. When there wasn't a reply, Noah continued. "Dallas, I need you to trust m-."

"It's not a matter of trust, Noah." Dallas cut in. "The results aren't back yet. It's probably going to be another week, if we're lucky."

"A week?" Noah asked, shock and disappointment echoing in his voice. "Why is it going to take so long?"

"The lab's backed up, and these kinds of tests are high in demand. At a private lab, it could be done far more quickly, but I'm afraid that Oakdale PD doesn't have those types of resources. And they only test for common drugs and alcohol levels; nothing out of the ordinary." The words echoed in Noah's head, causing him to duck it downwards.

Suddenly, an idea flashed through Noah's mind, and he brought his gaze up to match Dallas's, yet again. "Dallas… if I knew someone who was able to find and pay for a private lab to run private tests, would Oakdale PD be okay with that?" Noah knew his request sounded vague, but hoped that Dallas wouldn't question it.

"I don't know, Noah, I'd have to ask my superiors. It should be fine, but who would you contact?" The look in Dallas's eyes led Noah to believe that he knew who Noah was thinking of, but wanted to hear it confirmed.

"Lucinda. I mean, I haven't asked her yet, but I don't think she'd mind. And, Dallas, it's really important."

"I've got that, Noah, but why is it so important?" Dallas pressed, refusing to let the subject drop like Noah had hoped he would.

Noah let his gaze travel over Dallas as he debated whether or not to tell him about Kevin's accusations. _What if it was just a lie?_ Shaking his head, he decided to be honest with the man. After all, the police were going to find out about it either way.

"Dallas… Kevin said that he was drugged." The second the words came out of Noah's mouth, he wanted to take them back; they seemed so fake, so unrealistic.

"What?" Dallas's word was punctuated by a harsh laugh, as Noah had predicted. "Drugged? With what?"

"Hmmm... maybe drugs?" Noah said sarcastically, before blushing and apologizing. "Seriously, I don't know, but I want – I _need_ – to know if he's telling the truth." _Because if he is, that means this is more than a drunk driving._ Noah refused to let his thoughts wander beyond that, scared of where they would lead him to.

"Noah, I don't trust anything that bastard says worth a shit." Ignoring Noah's wince, Dallas continued. "But you know what? I trust your opinion. So here's what I'll do. I'll make a report that you withdrew evidence, namely Kevin's urine sample from after the accident, and you can go test it at this private lab."

"Wait," Noah began, "couldn't that get you in trouble?"

"It could." Dallas's eyes turned a hard shade of brown as he talked. "But a child _died_, Noah. Ethan's not coming back. So if finding out the truth means that I am put on probation for a couple months, then so be it."

"We could wait for Harrington to get back." Noah hated the idea, hated that he had to even voice it, but he knew that he had to give Dallas that option.

"No." Dallas's voice was decisive. "I don't know how long he's going to be, and I don't know if he would approve of you taking evidence. This way, we know that something is being done. And besides, I don't like how he's been acting on this case." Dallas's last sentence was a mumble, and Noah doubted that he was supposed to overhear. Tucking the information away for future use, Noah decided not to press the matter.

"Dallas… thank you." Noah struggled for words to express his gratitude over the risk that Dallas was taking. Dallas nodded his head, showing that he knew what Noah was trying to say.

A long silence fell, only broken when Dallas cleared his throat. "Umm, I have to go get the paperwork for the removal of evidence." A small smile flittered on Dallas's lips. "We should at least pretend that we are doing this properly and following protocol, right?"

"Yeah, right." Noah murmured. His guilt over putting Dallas's job at risk was tempered by his relief that something was going to be done about Kevin. "Just let me call Lucinda, and make sure that she's okay with this."

"I'll grab the paperwork anyways." Dallas said before standing up and exiting the room. The moment he was gone, Noah dialed Lucinda's number and waited for her to pick up.

Two rings later, and a harsh "Hello?" was barked into his ear. Smiling at the curt, so-Lucinda greeting, Noah took a second before responding.

"Hey Lucinda, it's Noah."

"Well obviously it's Noah, darling; who else would be calling me on your phone?" Lucinda's reply, although heavy on the sarcasm, didn't mask her concern. "What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

"Umm… Lucinda, has anyone talked to you about what happened at the pond today, with Kevin?" Judging by Lucinda's nearly incoherent answer, Noah realized that she had been left out of the loop. Pacing in the small office, Noah filled her in on the events of the afternoon, holding the phone away from his ear at her rather loud, spluttering responses.

"And you believe him?" Lucinda asked when Noah had finished, her doubtful question mirroring Dallas's opinion.

"I don't know, Lucinda." Noah answered honestly. "All I know is that I need to find out. He seemed sincere – isn't that enough for us to try?" Noah braced himself for a debate, and was surprised by Lucinda's answer.

"You've got a point there, darling. Okay, what do you need?" Lucinda's voice sounded as Noah imagined it would during business negotiations; hard, and yet calculating.

"We need to use a private lab to run a toxicology report on Kevin's urine sample." Noah rushed to continue. "It's going to take a while for the tests the police station's ordered to come back, and they don't test for specific enough drugs. Harrington's out of town, and I don't know when he's going to be back, so I can't just ask him to include tests. Dallas is willing to give me a urine sample from the night of… the accident, and we just need the funds for a lab."

"Don't sound like that!" Lucinda admonished, confusing Noah. "Don't sound like you think I'm going to refuse! Ethan is – was my grandson, and I'm going to do everything in my power to punish them, to punish those involved. Okay, darling?"

Noah nodded before realizing that Lucinda couldn't see him. Ignoring the slight flush that worked its way onto his cheeks, he cleared his throat before replying. "Okay, but Dallas is going to be back any minute. Can I meet up with you later?"

"Of course you can! Can you meet me at Worldwide in 45 minutes?" Glancing down at his watch, Noah figured that he could squeeze in a quick meeting before heading back to the Snyder farm. "That should be fine," he replied, "I'll see you then, bye." Noah snapped his cell phone shut, absentmindedly noticing the long scratch on the front.

Noah lifted his gaze from his phone when he heard Dallas reenter the office. Stuffing his cell into his pocket, Noah walked over to Dallas and extended his hand. "Dallas, I hate to say it again, but thank you."

"Noah, you don't need to thank me." Dallas replied, but shook Noah's hand anyway. "Now, take this bag here," Dallas continued, handing over a brown evidence bag. "It had a urine sample as well as a report of the tests that were run on the urine sample. And make sure you let me know when the tests are back!"

Noah grabbed the evidence bag from Dallas, feeling the enormity of what he was doing weigh him down the moment his fingers touched the paper. _Dallas could loose his job, Kevin could be innocent… oh God, what have I started?_

Dallas seemed to notice Noah's glazed expression, and he reached out and shook the other man's shoulder. "Noah, listen to me. You're doing the right thing. If something is going on, it needs to come to light, and if it isn't… well, at least you know, right?"

Noah managed a weak, reassuring smile before bidding Dallas farewell. Stepping outside of the office, Noah carefully shut the door before leaning on it, resting the back of his head on the cool wood. He took a deep breath, hating what he was about to do but knowing that it had to be done.

Noah began to head back to the front desk of the station before realizing that he was still holding onto the evidence bag. Cursing to himself, Noah walked out the emergency exit door and stashed the bag in his truck before entering the station again.

Rolling his shoulders in an attempt to soothe himself, Noah walked over to the front desk, doing his best to keep his 'charm smile' glued to his face. Anna looked up as soon as he stopped walking, smiling.

"Excuse me, Anna?" Noah began, injecting his voice with what he hoped was the right amount of charisma. "I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

Anna's smile widened as her gaze traveled along Noah's body. Noah felt guilty for using her, especially since she had been so nice to him, but he couldn't take any risks in not getting what he needed. "Whatever do you need, Noah?" A coy smile played at her painted pink lips, and Noah's guilt intensified.

"Well, I needed to know if you knew where Kevin Davies was being held." Noah's words caused Anna's smile to vanish like a light bulb being extinguished. Hastily, Noah backtracked. "I mean, I understand if you can't tell me. It's just that, I really need to talk to him, and I didn't know who to ask, and…" Noah looked at Anna from under his eyelashes, seeing her expression soften. _Got her._

"Well, technically I'm not allowed to tell you." The words should have filled Noah with disappointment, but he felt a 'but' coming up. Just as he expected, Anna continued. "But if he was in holding cell three, and you happened to overhear me say that, then I didn't really break any rules, did I?"

Noah stared openmouthed at the virtual stranger who had just helped him in more ways than he could count. "Thank you," he said, feeling as if the overused words were the only ones that applied to his situation. "I can't begin to explain how much this means to me." Impulsively, Noah grabbed her hand and kissed it, hoping she wouldn't read too much into the action.

Before she could respond, Noah began to walk away from the desk, feeling rather proud of his suave exit. Three steps later, he flushed and turned around to see Anna's expectant gaze on him.

"Umm… where exactly is cell three?" Noah asked sheepishly, blushing further as Anna laughed. A brief set of instructions later, and Noah was ready to go. He smiled as a goodbye, feeling the smile fade from his face the moment his back was to Anna.

_Well, here goes nothing…_

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**All reviews are greatly appreciated! Even if it's too kick my ass via cyberspace for the ridiculously late posting. Also, I know I have taken liberties with the police aspect of the story, and I'm sorry if I have offended anyone with my lack of knowledge. If you notice something big, please let me know! That way, I can fix it for future chapters**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer – Don't own them, don't sue me.**

***Notes – A great thank you to everyone who's been reviewing! I hope you enjoy.**

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Noah pressed his back flat against the door leading into holding cell three, letting his breath out in a shaky sigh. His mind was whirling from both unanswered questions and newly discovered answers, and his brain felt as if it was going to implode from the information that was being held captive in it.

He knew that he shouldn't hover outside the cell in case someone came by, but he couldn't help letting his eyes flutter shut as he thought back to his meeting with Kevin.

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"Kevin, I need to talk to you." The door had scarcely opened before Noah voiced his demand, causing Kevin's head to jerk up, his eyes widening in a comical fashion.

"You- you're Noah, right?" Kevin asked, although the question seemed rhetorical to Noah. "Luke's boyfriend?"

"You know that I am, Kevin. We met during the election, and hell, you saw me, what was it? Four hours ago?" Noah's voice was dripping in a mixture of sarcasm and mistrust, and he saw Kevin's eyes flash as a result. Noah cursed to himself, knowing that he had to at least try to gain Kevin's trust if he wanted to get any information out of him.

Kevin seemed to not notice Noah's internal debate as he babbled on. "Four and a half hours ago, actually. But what do you want?" As he spoke, Kevin seemed to deflate, as if the fight was draining out of him. "Are you here on Luke's behalf, to bash my skull in? If you are – go ahead. I won't stop you."

Noah instinctively took a step back in surprise. He didn't really know Kevin aside from their few run ins at OU, but from the stories Luke had told him over the years, Kevin hadn't sounded like one to just give up. Noah had expected fighting and hysterics, not this quiet defeat.

"No, I'm not here to 'bash your skull in.' " Noah used air quotes when he quoted Kevin, although the other man didn't notice; he was studying the steel table in front of him. "I came here to ask you about what you said at the pond – about being drugged."

As if a light were being switched on inside of Kevin, he looked up, straightened up. His entire demeanor seemed to change, although wariness still tinged his every movement. "What do you want to know?" he asked. "I'll tell you everything, anything."

Noah rocked back on his heels, thinking. He hadn't thought this far into his plan – he had expected a fierce fight with Kevin first. Millions of questions raced through his head, some pertaining to the case, and some so petty that he cringed to even think of them. _Did you ever love Luke? What do you mean to him?_

Knowing that he couldn't waste his time asking Kevin pointless questions about his ex-friendship with Luke, Noah crossed his arms and sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the grey table. Briefly looking around, Noah surveyed his surroundings; the predominant color was grey, with white splashes here and there. The room was cool, the floor concrete, and Noah could easily see himself going insane in the small room.

"Noah?" Kevin asked, snapping him back to the present. Shaking his head to relieve it of images of being imprisoned in his own childhood basement, Noah blindly asked the first question that floated into his head.

"Kevin, why would you say that you were drugged? What good would it do? I mean, I don't see how it would change anything; drugs didn't make you drive that car down that embankment." Noah cut himself off as he realized that his one question was quickly turning into an interrogation. Leaning back into his chair, he forced himself to relax and wait for Kevin's answer.

Long moments ticked by, their seconds measured by Noah's breaths. Just when he was about to stand up and leave, Kevin leaned forward and rested his shackled hands on the table.

"I'm not _saying_ I was drugged, Noah – I was. If I did this on my own free will, I'd serve the time. How else would I be able to live with myself?" Such a noble answer would have normally made Noah scoff, but there was something burning in those bright blue eyes that made him more inclined to believe the blonde sitting across from him.

"But you were drunk." The statement was hard, made harder by the look in Noah's eyes. "You were _drunk_, Kevin, and-"

"No, I wasn't!" Kevin raised his voice, regretting it immediately as Noah raised an eyebrow.

"You weren't? Then how come your car reeked of booze?" The point was solid, and Noah watched without interest as Kevin lifted a hand to run it through his hair, only to be stopped by the handcuffs encircling his wrists.

"I was at a party the night before. There was a lot of alcohol, and I drove some people home. I think they were drinking in the backseat, and they must've spilled everywhere. I was going to clean the truck out the next morning…" Kevin's voice drifted off.

The information startled Noah, but he made sure that his facial expression didn't change. "So you drove people home while you were wasted?" Noah asked, "and you wonder why I don't believe you about not wanting to 'harm' Ethan?"

"I was the designated driver!" Kevin yelled, slamming a fist down with a loud _crack_. "Noah… last year, one of my best friends died. Not because he was drunk, but because a drunk driver hit him." Kevin's voice was steady, but his entire body was slumped into his small chair. "I was so fucking mad at the guy that hit him. I thought, how could anyone be that selfish? Then, then I thought – I thought that could've been me that killed him. I could've been the drunken guy that hit my best friend while he was at a stop sign, going 130 an hour with no headlights on at two in the fucking morning. I haven't driven while drunk since then."

"What was your friend's name?" Noah asked, hating how callous he sounded, but needing to know so he could verify the information.

"Brett. Brett Taylor." Kevin whispered the name, his voice cracking on the last syllable. Noah mouthed it into the air, rolling the name on his tongue to help him remember.

Watching Kevin bow his head, lost in thoughts, Noah gave the blonde a few minutes to collect himself before continuing with his interrogation.

"Fine then, what were you given?" At Kevin's blank stare, Noah rephrased. "What drugs were you given?" Noah watched as Kevin's mouth contorted, revealing how hard he was thinking. _Thinking about the truth, or thinking about which lie to spout off next?_

"I don't know." Kevin replied, something in those eyes flickering. "I think something was slipped to me, because I know I didn't take anything, and I didn't shoot up, but I know that I wasn't not high either."

"What do you know?" Noah asked, trying his best to prevent his frustration from seeping into his words.

"I remember... I remember having lunch with someone." Kevin began, each word sounding as if he tasted it in his mouth before saying it, slow and deliberate. "I remember that I didn't know them, but yet I did. Something about them, it was familiar, almost as if I knew them. But I know I didn't know them." Kevin's forehead wrinkled, showing his confusion.

"I remember that they ordered me the house special - a turkey sandwich. Funny, what sticks in your memory." Kevin noted absently. "And I remember that when I saw Luke and Ethan, I was feeling funny. I thought maybe it was a dizzy spell from being up too late the night before. But then... I was driving, and everything was wrong. There were colors where colors shouldn't be, and I felt like, like I wasn't controlling what I was doing. And then, I remember the hospital."

"So let me get this straight," Noah said, hoping he injected enough doubt into his voice to cover up his confusion, "you were drugged, but you don't remember what it was. The person who drugged you had dinner with you, but you don't know who they were. And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Noah, you've got to!" Kevin cried as he stood up, the metal of his handcuffs rattling against the table. "I'm not lying, I swear! I promise Noah, I'm not!"

A small smirk graced Noah's lips, shocking Kevin into silence. "You better hope to hell you're not lying, because I'm going to know the truth in about… 48 hours."

"How?" The word was a strangled gasp, torn from Kevin's throat. The reaction Noah had been hoping for was far different than what Kevin gave him, and he felt unexpected anger bubbling up in his chest, begging to be released.

"We're getting drug tests done on your piss from the day of the accident." Noah's tone was crude, along with his words, and some sadistic part of him reveled in it. "The tests will be back any day now, and then we'll know, Kevin."

"But… tests take weeks to be done in labs!" Kevin's protest was weak, and it served to enrage Noah further. _If he's telling the truth, then why the fuck does he sound so worried?_

"Not if you have them done in a private lab." Noah knew he was gloating, and knew that it was dangerous to let Kevin in on his plans, but found that he couldn't help himself; anger had loosened his tongue, and it was too late to take anything back.

"That's good then." The abrupt turn around in attitude confused Noah, and he couldn't help but let his bewilderment flicker on his face. Catching on, Kevin continued. "The sooner you see that I'm telling the truth, the better."

"This isn't going to help me believe that you're telling the truth, Kevin." Noah spat out. "It's going to show whether or not you were high that night." Noah let his sentence hang in the air for a long moment, before standing up and heading towards the door.

"Wait!" Kevin cried, half standing in his chair. "Who knows that you came here?"

"No one." Noah said, fiercely regretting the words the moment they slipped out of him. "And if you tell any Snyder that I was here, I'll say you're lying." Noah ignored the twinge of guilt that swept through him at the thinly veiled threat, choosing to focus on zipping his hoodie up until it tucked just under his chin. Without a word, Noah walked out of the room, leaving Kevin behind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Footsteps echoed through the hallway, drawing closer to where Noah was standing. Glancing around, Noah walked towards the red exit sign that was located on the far end of the hall – away from the footsteps.

As he exited the building, a small bubble of laughter rose in Noah's throat as he tried to remember the last time he had left the police station from the front door. The laughter faded as Noah began to process everything that Kevin had told him.

The first thing he needed to do, he decided, was to find out if Kevin had been lying about being drunk. Figuring that there had to be some kind or report from the night of the car crash, Noah debated sneaking back into the station to ask Dallas, before deciding against it. As he knew from experience, Oakdale had a tendency to gossip, and he had been lucky that no one had recognized him when he had been in the station earlier.

Deciding that he would come back to the station later to talk to Dallas, Noah unlocked his truck and slid into the driver's seat. He cursed when he bumped the evidence bag that was lying on the floor with his feet, tipping it over. A closed jar filled with a yellow liquid (Kevin's urine, Noah assumed) rolled out of the bag, along with a small business card.

Grabbing the jar, Noah set it back into the bag and tucked the bag underneath the car seat. Snatching the card from the floor, Noah curiously flipped it over to see that Dallas had hastily scribbled his cell phone number on the back, along with a message – 'Call me as soon as you find out anything! I mean it, Noah! Dallas.'

Smiling, Noah tucked the card into his jacket pocket, realizing that he didn't have to go back into the station; he could just call Dallas. But before he did that, he needed to find out some information.

_Brett Taylor._ The name echoed through Noah's head, and his fingers itched to type the name into a computer and see what popped up. Noah knew that he couldn't go back to the Snyder farm quite yet because he wouldn't get a moment alone to use the computer, but the knowledge didn't stop the sharp pang that went through him. _It's only been a few hours, but god, I miss you Luke._

Noah hated lying to his boyfriend, but he knew it had to be done. Luke wouldn't understand, and Noah knew that he was doing the right thing. A humorless smile crossed Noah's face as he realized that he sounded exactly like Luke did during his obsession with Elwood after Reg's death. _But this is different; I know what I'm doing is right._ Shaking his head, Noah refocused on the road and decided to take his chances and head to Lucinda's cottage.

Once he arrived at the cottage, Noah grabbed the emergency key from under the doormat and let himself in.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he called out cautiously, not surprised when the only answer was a ringing silence. Walking over to the corner of the room, Noah booted up a computer that was in the corner of the room; the exact same place that it had been when he had been living in the cottage with Ameera.

Noah knelt in front of the computer, rested his hands on the keyboard, and impatiently waited for it to load. When it did, he almost cheered to see that there was internet connection still in the cottage – _thank you Lucinda!_

Pulling up a search engine, Noah typed in "Brett Taylor," only to find that nothing seemed relevant. Clearing the search box, Noah typed in "Brett Taylor Oakdale," only to have the same results. He continued to narrow down his search terms until a promising looking page popped up. **"NINETEEN YEAR OLD KILLED IN DRINKING-AND-DRIVING CRASH"** the headline blared.

Clicking on the link, Noah read the article, finding that most of the information matched up to what Kevin had said earlier. _'This doesn't prove anything'_ Noah reminded himself, _it just means that Kevin wasn't lying about this one thing. That doesn't mean he wasn't bullshitting me on anything else."_

Printing off the article and folding into a small square, Noah placed in his pocket, only to feel his fingertips brush against Dallas's business card. Pulling the card out, Noah wandered over to the couch to call Dallas, and almost dropped his phone when it began to ring.

Scrambling to flip it open, Noah didn't glance at the number before responding.

"Hello?"

"Noah, it's me." Luke said, his voice loud, as if he was talking over people. "I know you're at Java, but is there any chance that you could come home? Things are a mess, and I- I just, I don't know, I just… you know what? Nevermind. I'm being stupid; I can wait a couple hours to see you."

"Luke, wait!" Noah yelled, hoping that the guilt he was feeling didn't show in his voice. "I'm almost done, anyways. I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay?"

"But Noah, your shift can't be over." Luke said, "I can't let you blow off work. I'll be okay." Luke's voice held no conviction in it, and Noah couldn't believe that his boyfriend thought that he'd believe him.

"Luke, it's fine. They-" the lie briefly caught in Noah's throat, "they don't need me here; my manager was going to send me home, anyways." Hearing Luke take a slow breath, Noah cut off whatever he was about to say. "Don't argue with me, Luke. I want to see you, too. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."

"I love you too, Noah. Bye" Luke whispered, before a dial tone filled Noah's ears. Throwing his phone on the couch, Noah watched it bounce twice before staying still. He sat down, rubbing his hands over his face. _It's official – I lied to him._ Guilt clung to Noah, and his lies left a heavy taste in his mouth, but he knew that there was nothing he could do about it.

Picking up his phone, Noah began to dial Dallas's number to ask him about Kevin's sobriety the night of the accident. Four digits in, he snapped his phone shut and tucked both the cell and the business card back into his pocket. _I can deal with this later. I need to get back to Luke, now._

With that thought firmly in mind, Noah practically ran out of the cottage, barely remembering to lock the door and hide the key before he was off, hoping that his feeling of guilt would fade by the time he reached the farm.

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**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer – I don't own anything you recognize, so don't sue!**

*****Notes – I hope you enjoy!**

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Luke found himself pacing the length of the kitchen in the farm. He had never been one to pace, but he found the pattern and the regularity of it soothing. _Seven steps forward, turn, seven steps forward, turn._

The fact that _Kevin_ had been at the farm, trying to sell some story about being drugged, made Luke's skin crawl as if there were ants under it, scratching and trying to get out. Fighting the shudder that was working its way up his spine, Luke turned sharply on his heel and continued pacing.

Whispers floated from the living room, the words indistinguishable but the subject all-too clear. Almost all of the Snyder's had come out to the farm after the funeral, and were now in a 'meeting' to talk about what had happened by the pond with Kevin. Luke had desperately wanted to sit in with his parents and relatives to understand what was going on, but they had told him he was to "stay outside" before he could even ask to sit in. Being ordered around as if he was just a child frustrated him to the point that he wanted to scream, but he knew that his parents – his mom – needed to feel control over something; even if it was just their son's behavior.

Linking his fingers together at the back of his neck, Luke continued to pace with his head ducked forward, his fingers cutting into the soft skin of his neck just a bit too harshly. Eventually, when the itchy, crawly sensation under his skin died down, Luke placed the palms of his hands on the island counter and leaned forward, letting his head hang as if it weighed too much for him to hold upright.

He felt the tension drain out of him, and suddenly all Luke wanted was to have a long, hard cry. He shut his eyes tightly, but it did nothing to stop the stinging sensation of tears forming behind his eyelids. _Dammit Noah, where are you?_ Luke had felt guilty as hell when he'd called his boyfriend at Java and begged him to come home, but some part of him had acknowledged that Noah wouldn't mind – that Noah would've _wanted_ him to call.

Opening his eyes, Luke stood upright just as a tear rolled down his face, sliding down his cheek before _plunking_ onto the countertop. He stared at the dot of water for a long moment before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to force the tears back inside him.

Realizing how futile his efforts were, Luke turned to walk towards the bathroom just as the front door to the farm creaked open. Luke froze, _knowing_ that the person had to be Noah. Noah's deep voice confirmed his thoughts a moment later as he called out "Luke?" His name was a question, almost as if Noah was asking permission to walk over to him.

Luke realized that he had no idea if he looked as if he had been crying. He knew that his eyes were probably shiny, and he abruptly felt ashamed for his weakness. _I shouldn't be crying – it was only Kevin, for god sakes!_

"Luke?" Noah called out again, concern bleeding into the hesitancy of his voice. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Luke replied, with his back to Noah and his voice hoarse from lack of use. Thinking back, Luke realized he hadn't talked to anyone since Noah left the farm almost two hours ago.

"Then why won't you look at me?" Noah's voice was soft, and it reminded Luke of how Holden spoke to the newborn, skittish horses. Luke absentmindedly wondered if his dad had been giving his boyfriend lessons, before realizing how stupid his train of thoughts was. Shaking his head, he rolled his shoulders before turning to face his boyfriend.

Brown eyes locked on blue, and a silence rolled through the room, somehow louder than anything Luke could've said. A torn expression flickered on Noah's face, and his eyes darted from Luke's face to a small brown bag he was holding. Luke knew he should've been curious as to what Noah had, but was too focused on his boyfriend's face to really care.

A split second later, Noah set the bag on the table, shrugging his coat off and lying it on top of the bag, all the while watching Luke. Luke was tugged into Noah's arms before he even realized what was going on; the hug so tight that it was almost painful.

Luke rested his head in the crook of Noah's neck and felt his urge to cry drain out of him. He relaxed, realizing that standing in Noah's embrace felt like coming home. _I was scared_. The realization caused Luke to snuggle in closer to Noah and breathe in his comforting scent.

Noah pulled back, but left his arms around Luke's waist and Luke's arms around his neck. "How are you doing?" he asked gently.

"I – I'm okay now that you're here." Luke answered, surprised as he realized that he was telling the truth. He _was_ okay, now that Noah was back. "I think that, I think that I was just scared." For some reason, Luke felt that he owed Noah this honesty; his boyfriend had been so loyal to him, so honest throughout everything that Luke wanted to return the favor in every way that he could.

"Scared of Kevin?" Noah asked softly, his voice carrying no judgment.

"Kind of," Luke murmured as he searched for the right words. "It was more like, I was scared that he was here, at the farm. This is my home, Noah. And if that lying _murderer_ could come here… than where can I be safe?"

Some emotion Luke had never seen before lodged itself behind Noah's eyes. Thinking that it was worry, Luke smiled up into his boyfriend's face. "Oh, don't worry about me now, Noah. I got over it; I was just feeling really emotional. But thank you so much for coming home to me. I love you."

Luke closed his eyes and tilted his chin up, and was rewarded with the feeling of Noah's soft lips on his. Sighing, Luke deepened the kiss, enjoying the slow play of tongues, lips and teeth.

Footsteps coming from the living room broke into their bubble, and they broke apart. Having Noah with him made Luke feel happier than he had all day, and he reached down to squeeze his boyfriend's hand before heading over to his mother.

Noah watched his boyfriend, waiting to make sure he was fully occupied before he made his way over to Lucinda, who was surrounded by people – as usual. Noah stood to the side of the group of Snyder's awkwardly, trying to catch Lucinda's attention.

When minutes passed and Lucinda was still talking gravely to those around her, Noah took a deep breath and called out her name. "Lucinda!"

"What, what? Can't you see I'm trying to – oh, Noah!" Lucinda said, stepping around people to give Noah a hug. Noah's stress and guilt melted out of him as Lucinda's strong arms went around him, holding him up in the way that only a grandmother can.

"Umm… can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?" Noah felt incredibly shy as numerous Snyder's turned to stare at him, but Lucinda took no notice.

"Of course you can, darling!" Turning, Lucinda bid her former companions farewell before heading to the kitchen. Noah belatedly realized that she expected him to follow, and found himself chasing after her like a puppy on a leash.

They had barely entered the kitchen when Lucinda whirled around, causing Noah to nearly walk into her. Without batting an eye, she sat down in a chair and asked, "Do you have the sample that we talked about on the phone?"

The cryptic code nearly made Noah laugh, but he sobered as he realized how important it was to keep people from knowing what they were doing. If the Snyder's found out that Kevin believed he was drugged, Noah knew they would rather go after the man himself, or try and find out what was going on by themselves. Although Noah knew that what he was doing wasn't much different, at least he had the police – Dallas – on his side.

"Darling, we don't have all day!" Lucinda's brisk voice shook Noah from his thoughts, and he silently walked over to his jacket, and lifted it up to grab the brown bag. Opening it up to check that the urine sample was still there, Noah nodded to himself before handing the bag to Lucinda.

"Now, what should we be testing this for?" She asked as she walked over to a counter and grabbed a pen and paper.

"Umm… alcohol levels, for one." Noah began, thinking through what Kevin had said. "Test for common drugs… but I think you should focus on hallucinogens."

Lucinda paused in her writing, looking through her glasses at Noah's. "Hallucinogens? Did the police say something about them?"

"No," Noah began, "but I remember doing a project back in tenth grade. We had to research all these different types of drugs, and the way Kevin said he felt reminded me of the effects of hallucinogens." Feeling Lucinda's sharp gaze on him, Noah felt himself blushing. "Then again, I could be totally off, so-"

"Noah, Noah, Noah. When are you going to learn? I _trust_ your instincts, so I'll tell the lab to check for hallucinogens, too." Noah ducked his head at the praise, watching Lucinda through his eyelashes.

The sound of folding paper echoed through the room, and Noah watched as Lucinda placed the square of paper in the bag. "Wait!" Noah yelled, louder than he needed too. Lucinda looked up, raising an eyebrow, and Noah hurried over to his jacket to keep his reddening face away from her. _How many times can this one woman make me blush?_

Reaching into his pocket, Noah grabbed the card that Dallas and set it on the table. Reaching into the bag, Noah grabbed the paper and pulled it out, unfolding it. He scrawled down Dallas's cell before refolding the paper and setting it back in the bag, shivering as his fingers brushed against the urine sample.

"I just wrote Dallas Griffin's number down, so you'll have it." Noah explained. He passed the bag to Lucinda, and watched as she stuffed it into her rather large purse.

"Noah?" Noah's head snapped backwards as he heard Luke's voice call out his name. His boyfriend was standing at the entrance to the kitchen, confusion entering his brown eyes as he saw his boyfriend and grandmother standing side-by-side.

"Noah?" Luke repeated, "what's going on? What did you just give grandmother?"

Noah felt his throat freeze up, and waited for a lie to spring to his tongue. Nothing came. He was about to confess everything when Lucinda's strong voice cut into his thoughts.

"Noah picked up some stuff for me on his way back to the farm, darling boy that he is." Lucinda smiled and patted Noah's cheek. Noah, on the other hand, stood still, pasting a smile onto his face and hoping that it was fooling Luke.

"You didn't mention stopping anywhere when I called you at Java." Luke stated, the lack of accusation in his tone shocking Noah. Instead, there was just confusion. Noah knew that the Luke of a few months ago would've been flipping out at the inconsistency of the story, but this Luke was taking everything calmly. Noah knew that Luke wasn't overreacting because of his trust in Noah, and that knowledge caused his stomach to knot in guilt.

"Umm… Lucinda called after you did, and I didn't want to bother you again." Noah's voice sounded tinny to his own ears, weighed down by his lie, and he swallowed heavily.

"Oh, okay." Luke nodded, walking over to Noah and grabbing his hand. "Do you want to come out to the barn with me?"

The question was unexpected, and Noah stuttered. "The- the barn? What for?"

"Just because." Luke smiled, tugging on Noah's hand and leading him to the door. Just before he was about to leave the house, Luke turned around, dropped Noah's hand and jogged over to Lucinda. "Bye, grandmother." He said teasingly, kissing Lucinda's cheek before grabbing Noah's hand again and leading him out of the house.

Luke glanced over at Noah, who was staring at a riding saddle as if it would answer all of life's questions. _What's up with him?_ Ever since Noah had come back from Java, he'd been… different. The word Luke wanted to use was distant, but that didn't seem right, somehow.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Luke slipped his hands around his boyfriends waist, nuzzling his face into his back. "Noah," he murmured, letting his lips trace hard muscle through the thin material of Noah's t-shirt, "are you okay?"

Luke felt Noah's back stiffen briefly before relaxing. "Of course I'm okay." Noah replied, turning his head to drop a kiss into Luke's hair. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Luke thought that his boyfriend sounded defensive, but decided to let it slide. "I don't know, baby, just asking." Luke dropped a kiss on Noah's neck before turning him around. "Noah, Noah hey. I need to tell you something."

Seeing the apprehensive bordering on fearful look in Noah's eyes, Luke cupped his hands around his boyfriend's face. "Nothing bad, nothing bad I promise!" Luke smacked a kiss on Noah's lips before continuing. "Noah… I know I've been kind of preoccupied lately, with everything that's been going on. But I want you to know that if there's something you want to talk to me about, I'm here for you."

Seeing Noah open his mouth to protest, Luke rested a finger against his boyfriend's perfect lips. "Seriously, Noah, you can tell me anything. I want to be here for you the way that you've been here for me."

Once again, a foreign emotion seemed caught in Noah's eyes. Luke frowned to see it, but let it be – _Noah will talk to me if something's going on._

"Luke, do you want to get out of here?" Noah asked, turning in Luke's arms and heading toward the barn doors.

"Where to?" Luke asked, "Old Town?"

"Sure, why not?" Noah responded, his back still to Luke. "Let's get an ice cream or something, I don't know. I think you need to get out of here as much as I do."

"An ice cream?" Luke repeated, surprised. The frivolity of getting ice cream seemed unheard of after everything that had happened, but some part of Luke loved the idea; something normal, something that didn't involve cops and detectives and ex-friends turned murderers – just him and Noah.

"…only if you want to." Luke only caught the last bit of Noah's ramble, and noticed that his boyfriend was walking towards him.

"Sounds like a plan," Luke smiled at his lover, feeling more lighthearted than he had in days, "but should I bring Faith and Natalie?"

"I saw them with your cousins on my way out, and they seemed to be okay," Noah replied. "I mean, you can bring them if you want, but maybe you should let them hang out with other people? Maybe your cousins can take their minds off of everything."

"Noah, we just got back from a funeral. I don't think that my _cousins_ can make them feel any better." Luke noticed how his voice still caught on the word funeral, and hated it.

"Let them try to help, Luke." Noah soothed, "and let me try to help you. Please?"

"Okay." Luke murmured, grabbing Noah's hand and leading him to his truck.

.

.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

.

.

"…and her kids - who must've been like four and six - were wearing white dresses for some fancy ceremony; I think she mentioned that it was her sister's wedding or something. So I guess she went to the bathroom, but when she came back, her kids had painted these huge smiley faces on the fronts of their dresses with chocolate sauce from the latte that she had left on the table. I thought she was going to start crying!"

Luke was doubled over in laughter, tears streaming from his eyes. They had finished their ice creams, and Noah was recounting stories of some of his more memorable customers at Java.

"Luke? I didn't think the story was _that_ funny!" Noah teased, reaching out to wipe one of the tears off of Luke's cheek.

"It's not, it's not! It's just, I remember when Ethan used to do the same thing, but with markers!" Luke laughed, and then stopped as he realized what he'd said. His smile slowly faded from his face as he stared off into the distance

Noah tentatively wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him in close. They were sitting together on a bench in Old Town, and Noah ignored the awkward strain that the position put on his muscles. "Luke, it's okay to remember Ethan." Noah began slowly, not quite sure how to deal with the situation.

"I know it is, it's just that I'm here _laughing_, and he's never going to laugh again. Isn't it too soon for me to be laughing?" Luke asked, not really expecting an answer.

Noah knew that the question was rhetorical, but he wanted to give Luke some semblance of an answer. "Just do what feels right, Luke. No one's judging you." Noah felt Luke's arms wrap around his waist, and Luke leaned on him, reminding Noah of a similar cuddle when he had come back after a school trip to Rome.

Noah had no idea how long they sat there; it felt like minutes but it could've been hours. Luke's breathing was so even that Noah began to wonder if he was asleep, and he was about to nudge his boyfriend when a shadow fell over the two of them.

Noah looked up to see Tony standing awkwardly in front of them, his hands in his jean pockets. Noah tried to hide his surprise at Tony's appearance, but had a feeling that he failed. He hadn't seen the man in months; he hadn't been coming to GLBT meetings, and had practically disappeared from the college campus.

A long moment passed, and Tony continued to stare at them. "Tony?" Noah asked, hoping to inspire the other man to say something. He had heard rumors that Tony had gone a little off his rocker after Reg had died; the combined guilt of leaving Reg and introducing him to the drugs that had killed him must've been too much for the brunette to take. Noah hadn't put any stock in the gossip, but he was beginning to wonder if it was true.

"Noah." Tony replied, running a hand through his hair. Luke, who had been roused from his nap by the soft words, sat upright but left his arm wrapped around Noah. Blearily, he rubbed his eyes with a free hand before looking up at Tony.

"Hey Tony, how're you doing?" Luke asked, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him. Tony seemed preoccupied by Luke, and that gave Noah a chance to give Tony a once over. He noticed how sickly the man looked; his clothes practically hung off of him, there were deep circles under his eyes, and his hair looked both greasy and bedraggled. He looked nothing like the man that Noah had gone to the Cyndi Lauper concert with.

"Tony?" Luke asked again. Tony kept his gaze on Luke as he murmured some response. Noah felt his boyfriend curl in tighter against him, obviously creeped out, and Noah tightened his grip as a response.

"Well, Noah, we should probably get going!" Luke said, false cheer in his voice. "It was nice seeing you again Tony; I'll talk to you later, alright?"

Luke moved to sit up, and suddenly Tony was crouched down, right in front of him. Luke recoiled, but Tony didn't seem to notice.

"Luke, I… I ne- needed to tell you that, that I'm sorry about Ethan." Tony stuttered, the remnants of alcohol on his breath. Noah figured that Tony must've been hung over.

"Oh, I appreciate it." Luke said, not moving away from Tony even though the man was in his personal space. "But Noah and I need to get going, so I'll see you around?"

"I mean it, Luke." Tony whispered, completely ignoring Luke's previous statement. His stutter was gone as he continued, "I'm sorry about everything. I wish I could change it. "

Luke mumbled something back, edging away from Tony just as Noah felt his phone vibrate in pocket. The ringer had been turned off for the funeral, and as the vibrations continued, Noah realized that he was probably being called. Not wanting to answer his phone with Tony and Luke around, Noah let it go to voicemail.

Looking up, Noah realized that Luke was standing while he was still on the bench. Jumping upright, Noah gave a half-smile to Tony before grabbing Luke's hand and walking away.

By some unspoken agreement, the boys headed to Noah's truck. Once inside, Noah watched as Luke leaned into his seat and let his breath out in one slow exhale.

"That was weird, hey?" Noah asked, hoping the odd confrontation hadn't been too much for his boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah, but Noah, did you _look_ at him?" Luke asked, fidgeting. "He looks like crap; has he been like that since Reg died? What happened to him?"

"Survivor's guilt?" Noah guessed, wincing as he realized how close to home the words were. Luke and Tony had more in common than Noah had initially realized; they both lost someone they loved, and they both blamed themselves - even when it wasn't their fault.

"Noah, does that mean I'm going to end up like that?" Luke whispered, shifting in his seat. "Am I going to do anything to numb the pain; do anything to forget?"

"No, you won't end up like that Luke, because," Noah grabbed the back of Luke's neck and pulled him forward for a deep kiss, "because I'll be here for you."

"Okay." Luke said simply, watching Noah as he started the truck and headed back to the farm.

Noah kept his expression calm, refusing to let the thoughts whispering in his mind from bothering him. _You're lying, you're lying, he's going to find out._ Only now, he had Luke's words repeating in his mind, almost like a chant – _do anything to numb the pain…_

The words struck a chord in Noah, and it reminded him of Luke's odd behavior – the fingernails constantly raking his skin. _Is that what he's doing? Numbing the pain?_ The concept didn't make sense to Noah, but the words fit Luke's behavior.

Vowing to research Luke's behavior when he got home, Noah let himself focus on the road, and feel the heat of Luke's fingers as they stroked his hand.

**Feedback is greatly appreciated!**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Dallas Griffin leaned back in his chair and rolled his shoulders, trying to release the built up tension in them. Glancing at the clock, he realized that he had been hunched over his desk for well over two hours. _Damn paperwork._

He was filing details of a breaking and entering case he had worked on, and was only half way through the paperwork that he needed to finish. His shift had ended over twenty minutes ago, but he wanted to wrap up his formalities before heading home.

Scrubbing a hand across his weary face, Dallas thought back to the investigation surrounding Ethan Snyder. Remembering the risks he had taken to secure Noah the urine sample needed for drug testing, his stomach knotted until it was almost painful.

He had lied to Noah; it was highly unlikely that he would just receive a metaphorical slap on the wrist for stealing evidence. Not only had he not followed proper protocol, but he had given important evidence to a civilian. Dallas had no idea what the punishment for his actions would be when Constable Harrington – the lead investigator of the case – found out, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be pleasant.

Sighing, Dallas stood up and tucked his papers into files, figuring that he wasn't going to get anymore work done with the state he was in. As if on cue, his office phone began ringing, breaking the silence of the office. Cursing to himself, Dallas dropped the papers he was holding back onto the desk before reaching over and grabbing the phone.

"Hello?" he said, intentionally softening his voice so it wouldn't betray how tense he was.

"Mr. Griffin? This is Anna." a feminine voice said. It took Dallas a moment to remember that she was the receptionist at the station. When he did remember, he almost blushed in embarrassment; _this case must really be getting to me if I can't remember the name of the receptionist who's been working here for four months._

"Mr. Griffin?" Anna asked again, her business-like tone slipping. "Are you there?"

"Hmm? Yes, I'm here. What do you need?" Dallas asked, not really focusing on the conversation as he picked up the papers lying on his desk.

"A Kevin Davis has been asking to talk to you. He's been rather insistent, actually." Anna explained, unaware that her words caused Dallas to drop his papers, yet again, in shock.

"Kevin Davis?" Dallas asked, "you mean the Kevin from the Snyder case? Wasn't he released on bail, again?"

"That would be the same Kevin." Anna commented, "and yes, his parents were willing to pay bail, but the judge refused to set it. She said that he had proven to be mentally unstable since he went straight to the Snyder's after he was released from jail last time. He's staying here until his trial."

Although Anna helped explain away a lot of Dallas's confusion, he was still reeling with questions, one of which he vocalized. "Has he mentioned why he wants to talk to me?"

"He just said it had to do with 'the investigation.'" Anna replied, her tone giving Dallas the mental image of air quotes. "He sounded kind of panicked, according to the officer who took the message. Are you going to go see him?" Anna's last question held more personal curiosity than professionalism, but Dallas answered her anyways.

"I'm heading down there right now; thank you, Anna." Before she could respond, Dallas hung up the phone and haphazardly organized his desk to give it some semblance of looking tidy. Locking the door to his office, Dallas headed to the cell where Kevin was being held, wondering what Kevin had to say, and why Kevin would choose to contact him, of all people.

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"Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit." Dallas paced in his office before throwing himself into his chair, his phone glued to his ear. "Noah, pick up, _come on!_"

Four rings later, and Noah's voice echoed through the receiver; _'you've reached Noah Mayer, and I'm…"_ Dallas impatiently waited for the beep before he tried to explain what he had learned without out directly saying it – it wasn't the kind of news he wanted to break over the phone. As soon as he finished, Dallas flipped the lid of his cell phone shut, nearly cracking the screen with the force he used.

Leaning forward in his chair, Dallas forced himself to breathe deeply and to _think_ through his situation – not react. Opening his phone, he texted Noah one last time before shutting it and tossing it on his desk.

His head was spinning, but Dallas forced himself to use his cop training to his advantage, focusing his thoughts until his shock was manageable. If Kevin was telling the truth, and if Luke didn't know…. _shit._

Dallas was about to dial the Snyder farm and hope to hell that someone he could talk to would pick up when his office door was slammed open. Looking up, Dallas saw Constable Eric Harrington standing in his doorway, and immediately hung up the phone.

"Eric, how can I help you?" Dallas asked, unsure of Harrington's mood. Although Dallas and Eric didn't socialize outside of the station, they both had a mutual friendship due to long hours spent pouring over cases together. However, from the fiery look in Eric's eyes, Dallas doubted that their friendship was going to mean a damn once the truth came out.

"How can you help me?" Eric asked, sarcasm radiating off of him in waves. "No, it's more like how can you _fuck up my entire investigation?_ What the hell are you trying to do, Dallas?"

"What are you talking about?" Dallas asked, regretting his decision to play dumb the moment the words slipped from his lips.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about!" Eric yelled, stalking across the office until he was uncomfortably close to Dallas. Green eyes bored into brown, but Dallas stood firm, refusing to give up his ground.

Undeterred, Eric crossed his arms and slowly asked, "Where did the urine sample go." It wasn't a question, Dallas realized, not really; it was a demand, and Eric knew that Dallas had no choice but to answer truthfully.

"It was sent away for testing." Dallas answered, knowing that Eric would pick up on his lie through omission. What he wasn't expecting was for Eric to slam him against the wall, pinning him to the beige surface with an arm at his throat. "Eric?" Dallas managed to cough out before that bruising, suffocating pressure was back.

"Who did you give the sample to?" Eric demanded, his voice oddly high pitched and his eyes wide. Not with anger or hatred, Dallas realized, but with fear. The sheer terror in Eric's eyes forced Dallas to swallow against his own rising panic. Over his years as a cop, he had learned that there wasn't much that was worse than a man who felt threatened.

Opening his mouth, Dallas tried to answer, but he couldn't suck in enough air to respond. He was faintly aware of his wheezing gasps, but was more focused on the hazy spots dancing behind his eyelids. _When did I close my eyes?_

The pressure on his throat increased before loosening, just enough so Dallas could draw a breath. He resisted the urge to cough, although he couldn't help his desperate gulps for air. His recovery time was interrupted when Eric shoved him against the wall again as if he were simply a rag doll. Dallas was strong, but he was no match for Eric, that much he knew; the man was both taller and more muscular.

"Tell me now." Eric demanded in a whisper, which was somehow more unnerving than his panicked yelling. "You have five seconds."

"It was sent… to a private lab." Dallas choked out, all too aware of the forearm that could easily crush his throat. "For testing."

"What, what kind of testing?" Eric asked in a rush, his eyes still wide with that all-compassing fear.

"Drugs and alcohol" was all Dallas was able to cough out before his body was ravaged with coughs that he could no longer hold back. The pressure on his throat was suddenly released, and he fell to the floor at the lack of support.

Unable to drag himself off the floor, Dallas looked up and saw the old Eric slowly filtering back into the stranger that had entered his office. His arms were folded tight across his chest, and the gesture looked protective instead of aggressive. He reached a hand towards Dallas as if to help him up, but quickly snatched it back and crossed it against his other arm.

"Oh god, Dallas… I'm sorry. I didn't mean – I've got to go. I'm sorry." Eric turned and headed to the door, glancing back at Dallas before practically bolting.

Dallas slowly stood up, wincing as he brought a hand to his already-bruising and tender throat. He was lucky that the vivid colors wouldn't show against his dark complexion for the time being; he had no intention of reporting Eric to the station. The image of Eric before he had left the office was burned into Dallas's mind – the man had been white as a ghost, his shock and horror at his actions plastered across his face.

The man that had been in his office for the past twenty minutes was not the man that had been working with Dallas on the police force for the past year. Something was driving Eric to the edge of his sanity, that much Dallas knew. _But what could cause him to literally go crazy like that?_

Eric didn't talk much about his personal life, with the exception of raving about his nine year old daughter. He was a single father, that much Dallas knew, and he spoke of his daughter as if the world revolved around her. Thinking back, Dallas realized that Eric hadn't mentioned his girl (her name started with an 'S' – Sarah, maybe?) in quite some time. _Maybe he has family problems, and just lost control._

Even as Dallas nodded his head at his imagined answer, part of him knew that something far more intense was going on than a family feud. Shaking his head and wincing as that pulled at his throat muscles, Dallas grabbed his phone and decided to finally head home.

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Noah watched in fascination as his fingers carded through Luke's dark blonde hair, the strands shimmering in the light. They were lying in bed together with Luke's head on his chest, and Noah couldn't remember the last time he had felt so at peace.

The beginnings of guilt began to creep up within him, but Noah firmly pushed it away. He didn't understand why he was feeling so _bad_ for lying to Luke; after all, he had lied before. Hell, his entire life had been a lie in some ways, before he met Luke. He figured that was why he couldn't lie to his boyfriend – he was the one person that Noah owed honesty to.

"Noah?" Luke murmured drowsily, shaking Noah out of his thoughts. Luke tilted his head back to look into Noah's eyes, and Noah found himself captivated by the deep brown eyes that were locked onto his own.

"Yes?" Noah whispered back, not wanting to break the peace that surrounded them like a bubble.

"Is it… is it bad that right now, with you, I'm happy?" Luke asked, his insecurities about trusting himself welling up. "I mean, with, you know… I just wanted to know if you thought that, that…"

"That you're a bad person for feeling good?" Noah asked softly, the recognition in Luke's eyes more clear than a nod could've been. "No, you're not a bad person, Luke." Noah whispered, continuing his patterns in Luke's hair. "You're just being human."

Luke didn't choose to answer, lifting his head up for a soft, slow kiss instead. The kiss was so tender, so slow and full of love that Noah felt something in his heart shift, as if the moment were branding itself there.

They laid there for another half an hour, exchanging gentle kisses and soft stories, before Luke reluctantly got up to check on his family. Noah had insisted that he didn't need to, but ever since the accident, Luke had maintained that he had to go check on his sisters and parents. Noah figured it was some reflex to keep his family close, but it still broke his heart to see his boyfriend deliberately put himself in a situation where he had to act strong for his family, even when he was feeling the furthest thing from it.

After Luke left the room, Noah flopped back on the bed before he realized that he couldn't remember the last time he had looked at his phone. The last time he remembered having it was when he was with Tony and Luke in Old Towne, almost four days ago; it was probably still in his jacket pocket.

Opening Luke's ridiculously large closet and smirking at the even more ridiculous amount of striped shirts he saw, Noah checked the hangers for the jacket that he had meticulously hung up after his ice cream trip. Finding the gray jacket, Noah sifted through the pockets until his hand closed around the small phone.

Noah realized that his phone must've turned itself off during its hibernation in Luke's closet; after all, how else could the battery have lasted so long? Turning on the phone, Noah's suspicions were confirmed when he saw that the battery was only half dead.

Almost immediately, his phone began to buzz as he received text after text, voicemail after voicemail. When the buzzing finally stopped, Noah sifted through his twenty-four texts and seven voicemails.

The texts were mainly about mundane stuff; a missed test here, an offer to hang out there. He stumbled across a few from Dallas, asking Noah to call him when he received the text. Wondering what could be so important, Noah decided to check his voicemail, and then call Dallas.

The first voicemail was from Dallas, asking for Noah to call. The second and third were from friends from school, and the fourth was from Jeff, who was wondering what shift's Noah wanted for the next week at Java. The fifth and sixth messages were from Dallas, and were sent two days ago, according to his phone. The seventh message had been sent just over an hour ago, and sounded like a full out panic attack.

_"Noah? It's Dallas Griffin calling. I need you to call me when you get this please. Thanks!"__"Noah? It's Dallas again. Sorry to bother you, but can you give me a call or stop by the station when you receive this? I have something I need to tell you about the investigation.__"Noah? It's me, Dallas. Look, I need you to come down to the station, right away. It's about Kevin – he remembers something from the day of the accident. He says that he believes he can identify who drugged him, if that's what happened. And my guts telling me that he's being honest, and that he was set up in all of this. But Noah… shit Noah, you aren't going to like what he has to say. That son of a bitch! So please come down to the station as soon as you can. Thanks."_

Noah stood in shock for a brief moment before searching through his texts again, looking for a hint as to what Dallas was talking about. Throwing his open phone on the bed, Noah realized that the only way he was going to find out was to go talk to Dallas. Scribbling a brief note to Luke – he didn't want to have to lie to him face-to-face – Noah bolted out of the room and headed for his truck.

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Halfway to the station, Noah slammed on the brakes so hard that he nearly gave himself whiplash. _Shit!_ Frantically feeling his pockets, he realized that he had left his phone unlocked and open on Luke's bed. Normally, he wouldn't care less, but with his phone open to a text that Dallas had sent about the investigation, Noah knew his boyfriend would be able to piece together the situation.

'_I have to get home first_,' was the only thing running through Noah's mind as he pulled an illegal 'U' turn and sped to the Snyder farm, making it there in record time. Sprinting up to the bedroom, he opened the door to find Luke picking up his phone.

"Luke!" Noah yelled, causing the blonde to jump.

"Noah!" Luke mock yelled, a grin spreading across his face. _Oh thank god, he hasn't seen it._ "What are you doing back so soon? You wrote that you had a shift at Java to work." Luke commented, nodding towards the note that Noah had left him.

"I did, but I forgot my phone." Noah rushed out, still puffing from his sprint.

"Oh, here it is!" Luke smiled, about to pass the phone to Noah when he accidentally hit the volume button on the side, causing the screen to light up. "Hey…" Luke murmured as a word on the screen caught his eye. "Noah, why are you texting Dallas Griffin?"

The moment Luke asked the question, Noah felt all of the color drain out of his face. "Noah?" Luke asked, his voice incredibly insecure as his eyes fell on the text message. "What's going on?"


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – I am ****so**** incredibly sorry for how long this took! I have the chapters pre-written, I just wasn't able to get onto the site due to my new laptop. The problem's fixed now, and hopefully posting's will be much more steady.**

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Noah?" Luke asked again, his voice achingly vulnerable. "What's Dallas talking about?"

Noah wanted to Luke to look at him so he could see the emotions he knew would be swirling in those chocolate-brown eyes, but Luke's gaze was fastened on the phone in his hand. The only sounds in the room was Noah's heavy breathing, and the occasional _beep_ from Noah's phone as Luke sifted through it.

Luke closed the phone and stared at it; Noah could see him slowly piecing together what had happened over the past week. There was more than enough information in the texts for Luke to figure it out. Finally, _finally_, Luke lifted his head, his chin titling defiantly at Noah. There was more than just the remnants of confusion in Luke's expression; there was hurt and the beginnings of grim understanding, something that tore at Noah.

"Luke, listen to me." Noah began, finding his voice. "It's not what it looks like…"

"Have you been lying to me?" Luke asked, his eyes shimmering with the beginnings of tears. "Answer me that, Noah. Have you lied to me?"

"Luke, let me explain!" Noah begged, only to be cut off by Luke yet again.

"Noah, answer the damn question. Have. You. Been. Lying. To. Me." Any hint of vulnerability was gone from Luke's tone. Instead, there was only a hard, icy quality to it. Noah hadn't heard that tone used with him since their last break up, and he _hated_ it.

"Yes." He answered brokenly, knowing it was the truth. "But Luke, I had a reason! You need to listen to me, please." Noah reached out to touch Luke's shoulder, feeling his stomach sink when Luke jerked away from the touch.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what the fuck I need to do." Luke snapped, throwing Noah's phone at him before crossing his arms tight against his chest, watching as Noah shoved the phone into his pants pocket. "You lied to me, Noah!" The accusation rang through the room, and the guilt that Noah had been carrying around with him nearly suffocated him.

"I had a reason, Luke!" Noah repeated, feeling as if he was talking to a brick wall. "I didn't do it to hurt you! God, Luke, I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's too damn late for that." Luke snapped back, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

"I'm sorry Luke, I just, I just didn't want…"

"I didn't ask for an apology, Noah." Luke cut in, his voice still cold as ice. "I asked _why._ Why didn't you trust me enough to talk to me?"

"It wasn't a matter of trust, Luke!" Noah cried, his exasperation and guilt disguised as anger. "I just didn't want you to freak out at me!"

"Freak out at you?" Luke laughed sarcastically, a hard edge entering his voice. "_Freak out at you?_ Noah! How is this _not_ a matter of trust? You didn't give me a single fucking chance to prove myself to you! You didn't trust me enough to tell me what was going on – instead you treated me like a child! You treated me as if," here, Luke had to swallow the lump that was building in his throat, "as if I could be lied to, manipulated – you treated me the same way your father always treated you."

The words caused Noah to physically step back in shock, and he missed the flash of regret that shot through Luke's eyes. _Am I really like him?_ Luke had voiced Noah's worst fear, and they floated in Noah's ear, feeding his insecurities.

"You don't mean that." Noah whispered, a burning numbness spreading throughout his whole body. _If Luke thinks I'm the same as the man that nearly killed him – I've wrecked everything._ Still, his gaze clung to Luke in a desperation for his boyfriend to apologize, to say that he was wrong.

Instead, Luke looked straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Even if his boyfriend didn't mean what he had said, Noah knew he would be too stubborn to take it back. Feeling those words – "you treated me the same way your father treated you" – weighing down on him, pressing until he felt himself crumble, Noah turned to leave.

He was almost out of the room when he heard Luke's shuddering sigh, and paused his motions. Twisting his head over his shoulder, Noah saw Luke's eyes filling up with tears and heartbreak replacing the anger in his eyes.

"Luke," he called, watching as Luke swallowed heavily and attempted to glare at him, "I'm not running away. I'm just giving you time, but I'm going to be back. I – I love you, and I'm going to fight for you. I'm going to make this up to you." Knowing that if he stayed any longer, he would end up on his knees and begging Luke's forgiveness, Noah turned on his heel and left the room, the door swinging softly shut behind him.

The moment Noah was gone, the airs deflated out of Luke until he looked like a child, lost and confused in matters too big for him. He felt tears stinging in his eyes, a contrast to the betrayal and anger that had his body trembling. _No!_, he thought, casting his gaze around the room, _I'm not going to cry over this, over_**_him_**." It wasn't just his hurt that made him want to sink to his knees and cry; it was the knowledge of what he'd said to Noah, of how he'd dove straight for Noah's biggest insecurity and manipulated it, manipulated _him._

"How can I be so damn angry at Noah, and yet feel like this for hurting him? Hell, how can I hurt him like that when I love him so fucking much?" Luke asked out loud, his hands running through his hair roughly. One some level, he knew what he'd said wasn't true; Noah was _nothing_ like the bigot who'd raised him. And yet he was too stubborn to admit it, even to himself.

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This isn't working, I need to calm down… to stop thinking._ Luke looked around his room for a distraction, anything to calm the commotion within him. Seeing nothing, he stepped into his adjoining bathroom to splash his face with water in hopes it would calm him down. Luke winced as he smashed his hip into the side of the bathroom's sink, knocking over a bar of soap. Bending to pick it up, he set it by the tap before his eye was caught by his gray razor, lying innocently on the sink's edge.

Thinking back, Luke remembered how pain managed to clear his head, how the press of his fingernail's against skin would calm him down. _Would a razor do that? I could try it - just one cut. It would be an experiment; it won't matter, it's not like I have a problem. Just one, and I'll be able to think again. Just one... that'll be enough_. Luke stared at the razor lying on the counter next to the sink. He picked it up, his every movement overly precise, as if he couldn't afford to take a misstep.

Angling his arm overtop of the porcelain white sink, Luke slowly brought the sharp blade to rest on the inside of forearm. _I just need to drag it, just a little. That's it; how hard can it be?_

Luke felt his arm tense, felt the razor shake against him as what he knew was right and what he wanted to be right fought a violent war in his mind. The clarity that he instinctively knew would come with the sting of the razor blade was tempered by his fear of what he was doing; of doing something that he had once promised himself he never would. Fingernails and car keys were one thing; using a razor made everything painfully real.

He dug the blade into his arm, but couldn't make it move. His entire body was trembling, yet he couldn't bring himself to move the damn razor.

A shuddered breath escaped his lips as the razor fell into the sink, clinking against the white ceramic. Luke clapped both of his hands over his mouth in horror as he realized what he had been about to do. Mindlessly walking to the door, he pressed his back to it and sunk to the ground, his hands loping around his knees and pulling them tight to his chest.

So many emotions were flitting through his mind that he could barely recognize them all, yet alone process them. His anger and shock, despair and guilt, and most of all, fear. He feared for Noah, despite his anger at him, who would be devastated if he ever realized what Luke was tempted to do so damn badly. He feared for his family, who wouldn't be able to handle another emotional crisis. And he feared for himself, for what he might end up doing if he couldn't get control of himself and his emotions - soon.

It was fear that drove him to stand up, not courage or determination. It was his fear that brought him to the side of his desk, with a yellow phonebook in one hand and his cell in another. And ultimately, it was his fear that led him to dial the number in that black print under the name Nelson, R.

"Doctor Nelson? This is Luke Snyder; I would like to book an appointment with you. Yes… it's for me. Why? I think- I think I have a problem."

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Noah was driving to Oakdale PD, unaware of Luke's emotional crisis. Instead, he found his thoughts chasing each other in a circle that didn't seem to end. _I shouldn't have lied to him! – But I did, and now I have to make it right – He overreacted – But I lied to him!_ Every cell in Noah's body was begging for him to turn his truck around, drive back to Luke and plead his side of what had happened.

Instead, he took a deep breath and drew his father's lessons to the forefront of his mind. The Colonel had always believed in controlling ones actions and ones emotions, and Noah found that even though remembering Winston's lessons made his stomach roll, it helped keep him focused on the task at hand. _Maybe I am like him._

When he finally pulled into the parking lot, he barely remembered to lock his door before he jogged into the building. Making a beeline to the front desk, he sighed in relief when he realized that the secretary was the same girl that had helped him with Kevin days prior.

"Anna?" He asked, feeling relief as she looked up. _Thank god I got her name right._

"Noah, right?" Anna asked flirtatiously, smiling when Noah nodded. "How can I help you today?"

"I need to talk to Dallas Griffin." Noah replied, fidgeting on the spot. "Is he in?"

Glancing down, Anna scanned some papers before looking up. "He was supposed to leave two hours ago, but I'm pretty sure he's still in his office. Do you know where that is?" Noah nodded and muttered a hasty "thanks" before he was gone, barely containing his urge to run down the hallway.

When he reached the door, he knocked and waited for a response. When none came, he called out "Dallas?" before twisting the door knob experimentally. Seeing that the door wasn't locked, Noah gently pushed his way in.

Dallas was sitting on a rolling chair, one hand pressed against his forehead as if it was propping his head up, while the other was rubbing his throat. He was staring at his desk, and hadn't seemed to have heard Noah's knock.

Stepping closer, Noah called "Dallas?" again, watching as the man jumped in his chair. His hand moved off of his neck, and Noah found himself gasping at the angry red mark that was just visible against his dark complexion.

"What happened?" Noah asked in reflex, nodding his chin at Dallas's throat. Dallas opened his mouth as if to answer before wincing and closing it again. He grabbed a bottle of water off of his desk and took a slow sip before he attempted to answer Noah's question again.

"Angry friend." Dallas croaked out, his voice so raspy that it made Noah wince in sympathy. Although Noah was curious as to who the 'angry friend' was, and what Dallas could've done to piss someone off that badly, he let it slide. After all, he was here about the investigation.

Dallas seemed to remember that as well; he sat up straighter in his chair and beckoned for Noah to sit in an extra chair, although he left his hand around his throat.

"So you're here… about my phone calls?" Dallas asked, his voice still rough. Noah couldn't imagine how painful the conversation was for Dallas, who looked as if he'd been strangled. He felt his respect for Dallas double as he took a deep breath in response to Noah's murmur of agreement.

"I went to talk to Kevin today." Dallas rasped out, his sentences clipped. "He told me he had a flashback about… who he met for lunch that day."

Out of everything Noah had been expecting, _that_ was definitely not it. "Who was it?" Noah asked, impatient. "And Dallas," he said as he pulled his chair in closer, "whisper, for gods sakes. Your throat must hurt like crazy with that kind of bruising."

Dallas cast a relieved glance at Noah before he pulled his chair in closer and continued his story. The hushed tone was difficult to hear, but to Noah it was worth it; he didn't want to see the other man suffer anymore than he had to.

"Kevin… he's not all there." Dallas whispered, "mentally, at least. I think the guilt of what he's done is killing him. So don't take this without a grain of doubt, Noah, because he could be raving."

"Okay, fine." Noah replied, his fear-based curiosity getting the best of him, "who was it?"

"He said… he said he remembered it was a 'father'." Dallas replied, taking another sip of water as he studied Noah's dumbstruck face.

"A father?" Noah repeated, his derision clear in his voice. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? How many father's are in Oakdale?" Noah stood up to leave, feeling a heavy disappointment setting in. He was stopped when Dallas reached over and physically pushed him back down in his chair by his shoulder.

"Noah…" he said carefully, "he told me that his last thought was that it was 'odd that his father was back in town,' and something else about the dinner. Now, who's father has recently come back into Oakdale?"

The answer floated in Noah's mind, but he didn't want to give voice to it. "Damian?" he asked anyways, voicing the name both of the men were thinking. "You think_Damian_ did this? No!" Noah knew he was sounding unreasonable, but he couldn't help it. "Damian's Luke's father! He loves him; he wouldn't do that to him."

"Noah, last time Damian was back in town, I was the officer at the scene when he was nearly arrested." Dallas's voice was gaining passion as he continued to speak. "Damian- he's not safe. He is willing to do anything to get what he wants. I wouldn't put this past him."

"But… to kill his son's brother?" Noah whispered, the words truly registering in his mind. Some small part of him saw Luke and Damian as a repeat of him and his father; both estranged, but if they could make up, then maybe Noah and the Colonel could, too. It was a stupid fantasy, one he knew would never happen, but he hadn't realized how important it had been to him until Dallas's words crushed it.

"Noah, do you know what Damian's done in his past?" Dallas asked gently.

"I know that he lied to Luke before, and that he tried to kidnap him as a child." Noah replied, thinking back to the conversation he had with Luke after the Colonel's death. "And I know that he didn't approve of Luke being gay. But that was in the past, wasn't it?"

"Noah… that wasn't all he did." Dallas said sadly, his fingers rubbing rhythmically on his bruised skin. "When Luke was a child, he forged both Luke's and Holden's deaths after an explosion. Damian's brother, Dante, locked them in a tower in Malta, and when Lily figured out what had happened, he kidnapped her as well. Damian tried to stop Dante, but nearly died. Lucinda saved him; she arrived and killed Dante."

Noah's mouth was agape, and Dallas reluctantly continued to drive his point home. "Damian left after that, but arrived back to Oakdale three years ago. Lily was still in denial about Luke being gay, and it was causing a rift between her, Luke and Holden. Damian widened that rift and convinced Luke that his family didn't want him. He arranged to have Luke sent off to a 'de-gaying camp'," Dallas couldn't disguise the loathing in his voice, "but made Luke believe it was his mother's idea. She was pregnant with Ethan, and fell down a flight of stairs while they were arguing, and was in a coma for months."

"Lily… was in a coma?" Noah asked, his eyes wide as he tried to process the information. Dallas nodded grimly.

"Damian needed Luke's inheritance to pay off his enemies." Dallas continued, Noah nodding in remembrance. "So he told Luke he was dying to convince him to go to Malta. Luke's cousin Lucy found out, and Damian had his thugs tie both her and Dusty Donovan to a pole in the Fairwind's wine cellar. It exploded due to a gas leak, but Lucy and Dusty got out just in time – thank god."

"Is that it?" Noah asked numbly. "Luke never, he never told me any of this." The realization of the pain Damian had inflicted on Luke caused a shiver to run up Noah's spine.

"No, Damian's friend tried to kidnap Luke. He had a gun to his head; the only reason Luke escaped was because he kept his wits about him. But Noah, I was there when Luke discovered the truth." Dallas's voice grew fainter as he remembered the past. "This… it killed a part of him, I think. That's why he doesn't talk about it, it hurts him too much."

"God, Luke." Noah whispered, more to himself than to Dallas. "If I'd known…"

"Now you do, and there's nothing you can do about the past." Dallas rasped, shaking his head to rid it of memories from the past. "And Noah, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to help you with this investigation." A tinge of regret entered Dallas's voice.

"Am I risking your job? I'm sorry, Dallas, I shouldn't have asked you for help." Noah stood up, unable to stay sitting any longer.

"No!" Dallas yelled, wincing as the words tore at his throat. "It's just that Eric found out about me working on the case behind his back. He wasn't happy."

"Eric, as in the Constable?" Noah asked. "You would think that he would appreciate the extra help."

"He didn't," Dallas replied shortly, his fingers unconsciously grazing the bruise, "and I wouldn't be surprised if he gets me fired."

Watching Dallas's fingers move across his throat, a thought jumped to Noah's mind and it spilled out of him before he could stop it. "Did Eric do that?" Noah was expecting a "no" or a laugh, so when Dallas's weighty silence confirmed it, he couldn't help the gasp that tore from his chest. "Why? Did you report him?"

"He was mad." Dallas stated simply. "And Noah, don't say anything, I can deal with this myself. Now, do you have any other questions?" Although he was abrupt, Dallas wasn't being rude, at least in Noah's opinion anyway.

"No… I think I'm good." Noah answered, "at least on the investigation front." A small, needy part of Noah wanted Dallas to pry at that statement, to ask Noah what he_did_ need help with, to give Noah an opening to talk about him and Luke. Instead, Dallas nodded absently and stood up.

"I've got to head home," he said, "but maybe you should talk to Kevin? He might open up to you. He's in the same room he was in the last time you were here; they're sending him to the county jail tomorrow."

"Okay." Noah agreed, walking over to the door to exit Dallas's office. Turning around, he saw Dallas staring off into space. "Are you coming?" Noah asked, watching the other man closely.

"I just need a minute to gather my stuff." Dallas replied, his gaze travelling along his cramped office. "Call me if you find anything out from Kevin."

Noah nodded in agreement before stepping out of the office and closing the door. Leaning against the wall, he gave himself a brief minute to compose himself. _Damian?_The name fluttered through his head, coupled with thoughts of his fight with Luke. _That's why Luke was so mad that I lied to him, deceived him. His own father did it to him for months._

Noah knew he should head home and talk to Luke, but he _needed_ to talk to Kevin first. The urge, the drive that was pushing him to this investigation felt bigger than him, and had more sway over him than his own thoughts did. It was how he felt when he was determined to sign up for the army, trying to make up for his fathers mistakes. Only now, Noah realized, the driving force was his memories of Ethan, and how badly Noah wanted to discover the truth.

The insight hit Noah hard, but he refused to let himself dwell on it. He headed to the cell that Kevin had been in the last time he'd visited the station, only to smash into someone as he rounded a corner. The man he'd hit had been talking on his phone, and the cell went flying to the floor, along with papers, pictures, Noah's phone, and Noah himself.

Looking up, Noah saw surprised green eyes staring back at him, framed by blonde hair and a scuplted face.

"Constable Harrington?"

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**This was an extremely hard chapter to write, especially the scene involving Luke; his struggles hit close to home. Let me know if you loved it or hated it!**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing! It really means a lot to see that people are enjoying this story.**

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"Constable Harrington?" Noah repeated from his spot on the floor, before flipping onto his knees to gather the papers strewn around him. "I'm so sorry sir, I didn't see you coming around the corner." Noah knew it wasn't his fault that he had hit Eric, but some instinctive part of him had the apology flowing from his lips before he knew what he was saying.

Noah's eyes dropped to the papers he was holding, and he saw **Toxicology Report** printed across the top of one of them in block lettering. As if Eric had been able to read Noah's mind, he reached down and snatched the papers away from Noah. Just as quickly, he pushed Noah away and began gathering the papers up himself.

Noah stood upright, awkwardly watching the blonde. He wanted nothing more than to go, but felt as if he should stay and at least help; after all, he _did_ bump into him. After an uncomfortable silence, Noah asked, "Were those the results from the drug test?"

Eric stiffened before standing up, clutching the papers tight to his chest. The action seemed comical on a man who was nearly 6"2, like a small child holding a teddy bear, but Noah chose not to comment on the humor – he doubted that the Constable would appreciate it.

"Yes." Eric snapped, his gaze not on Noah but on the floor, looking at the files still scattered on the carpeted ground. Noah reached down to grab a paper that was resting by his feet, but stopped halfway through when Eric practically growled, "Don't."

Standing upright, Noah realized that he should get the hell away from Eric. After all, hadn't he nearly strangled Dallas? Instead, Noah found himself asking, "What were the results?" As soon as the question was out of his mouth, Noah wished he could take it back. A flash of anger flashed through Eric's eyes, so quick that Noah almost missed it.

Interpreting Eric's silence as a cue to leave, Noah reached down and scooped his phone off of the ground before walking away. He was halfway down the hallway when he heard the Constable yell "Wait!" Turning around in shock, he saw Eric behind him, his papers still scattered about the floor.

"Yes, sir?" Noah asked hesitantly, his gut instinct telling him to turn around and keep walking. That instinct, coupled with the knowledge of how badly Eric had harmed Dallas, had Noah feeling the tingle of wariness as it flooded through his body.

"I'm sorry about how rude I was to you." Eric smiled shamefully, "I've just been stressed out and I took it out on you. You wanted to know about the test results?"

Noah nodded, trying to wrap his brain around the sudden change of heart. Despite the charisma practically oozing from Eric, Noah felt like he was watching a highly trained actor, paid to convince Noah. Of what Noah needed to be convinced about, he didn't know. All he knew was that that feeling was there.

"His BAC – blood alcohol content – was at 0.15, and he tested clean for drugs." Harrington explained. "The legal limit for blood alcohol is 0.08, so you can imagine that he was very intoxicated."

"He tested clean for drugs?" Noah repeated, trying to wrap his brain around it. _Kevin was lying?_ "And he _was_ drunk? Wait… how did you get the test results back so soon? Doesn't it normally take over two weeks to get them back?"

"Normally it does," Eric replied, "but I put a 'rush' on the testing, so it was done early." Once again, charisma radiated from the Constable as he smiled, and yet Noah found himself trusting the other man less and less. Maybe it was because of that charm; one thing Noah had learned from his time on army bases was that charismatic men generally hid behind their charm; Noah didn't want to know what Eric could possibly be hiding. _Don't be ridiculous; he might be hiding something, but he's telling me the truth now. He wouldn't lie about something like this - it would be too easy to check._

"Oh, okay." Noah mumbled, wondering if he could've possibly come up with a less suave answer. "Well, I've got to go though, so thank you for the information." He had no where to go, but he needed to be alone, to think of what the ramifications of the drug testing were.

"Dallas Griffin ordered private drug testing, though." Eric continued, still smiling and completely ignoring Noah's statement. "He stole a urine sample and sent it to a private lab. Odd, isn't it?"

"Yeah, definitely." Noah replied awkwardly, Eric's gaze reminding Noah of a specimin sample laid before a microscope.

"That's what I thought, too." With a short nod, Eric turned around and headed back to his scattered belongings, leaving Noah to walk out of the station with a million questions bouncing around in his head.

Luke was sitting on a stack of hay bales outside of Shadowdancer's stall, his back pressed up against the wooden stall door. Occasionally, Shadow would butt her head against the back of Luke's neck, as if to remind her that she was there.

The stables had been Luke's sanctuary throughout his life, from when he was recovering from Damian's first kidnapping as a child to when he had been struggling with his sexuality. But fear had almost kept him from embracing the barn. He'd almost been afraid that this time, he was too messed up; that not even his horses could comfort him.

He had been wrong – the moment he'd stepped into the barns, that familiar rush of calm swept through him, clearing his head and allowing him to breathe again. In the stables, he couldn't lie; not to himself and not to the horses. He could admit things that terrified him, things that he didn't want to know about himself, because with the strong heat of unconditional love to his back, those things didn't seem so scary.

Luke pulled his legs up tighter to his chest as he stretched his neck back, allowing him to rest his cheek against Shadow's velvety muzzle. She nickered softly to him, and Luke closed his eyes in response, listening only to Shadow's deep and steady breathing, only feeling velvet hair against his cheek.

"Luke?" A voice called into the barn, causing Luke to jump and for Shadow to spook. She retreated to the back of her stall while Luke pressed a hand to his heart, trying to calm his suddenly rapid heartbeat. He'd thought the voice was Noah for a too-brief second, before realizing that the tone was young, the voice feminine. _Natalie._ Luke couldn't decide if he was happy or upset that Noah hadn't come back.

"Lu-uke," Natalie called, running into the barn. "I know you're in here, so you better come out! Why are you hid- oh. There you are." Natalie ran up to Luke and vaulted over the hay bales that were nearly as tall as she was, burying her face in his chest.

"Nat, what's up? Is everyone okay?" Luke asked, every muscle stiffening as adrenaline kicked through him. Instantly, endless scenarios ran through his head, and panic flooded through him.

"Yeah, Luke, everything's fine! Don't look so worried." Natalie teased, her head still resting against Luke's chest. "I just missed you." The innocent words of his youngest sister had Luke wrapping his arms around her, pulling her against him in what could only be described as a bear hug. _Thank god I didn't loose you, too._

Luke sat in silence for a long moment before he felt Natalie shift against him, her cue that the 'sappy time' was over. "How did you know I was here?" Luke asked, genuinely curious. He knew that no one had seen him exit the house, and he hadn't been making enough noise to attract someone's attention.

To his surprise, Natalie rolled her eyes and said, "You _always_ come out here whenever Noah drives away from the house really fast. Duh!" Natalie pulled out of Luke's embrace and sat across from him, crossing her legs in the same way Luke had while he been in elementary school. He was once again reminded about how _young_ his sister was, even though she had been taking the past couple weeks so well. She hadn't been her usual spunky self, but she'd been the most calm and accepting, something Luke had found odd.

"Luke?" Natalie asked, her brown eyes showing a childlike confusion. "Why aren't you tickling me? You _always_ tickle me when I say duh!" She placed her small hand on his knee before continuing. "Are you sad?"

"What? No, Nat, I'm fine." Luke smiled, reaching over to tousle her hair. Natalie sighed heavily before tapping Luke's knee with her hand like a mother scolding a child, causing Luke to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"Luke, you're a very very bad liar." Natalie stated simply, crossing her arms. "Wanna know a secret?" She asked suddenly, the abrupt change of topic threatening to give Luke whiplash. "I get sad too, sometimes."

"Really?" Luke asked sarcastically, giving Natalie's shoulder a gentle push. "I never would've guessed it!"

"No, Luke." Natalie said, her face more serious than Luke had seen before. "I mean, I get sad when I think about Ethan, too."

"I know, Nat, I know." Luke murmured, thinking his sister needed a shoulder to cry on. He reached out to her, surprised when she didn't lean forward into him.

"I get sad about Ethan," she repeated, "but you know what? Daddy said he's happy with the angels, and that one day we'll all get to see him again. So if he's happy, than I can't be too sad, right? Because if I'm sad, then I'm not sad for him, I'm only sad for me." To his horror, Luke felt the all too familiar sensation of tears burning in his eyes; not tears of sorrow, but tears of love at the sweet innocence of his little sister, his little Nat.

Swallowing heavily, Luke forced a smile before saying, "I know. But I'm not just sad about Ethan, Nat." The words sounded incredibly selfish – after all, how could Luke have a problem compared to loosing his brother? – but Luke realized that maybe that was the first step to healing; returning to life and all of its normal problems.

"Then what are you sad about, Luke?" Natalie asked, before adding, "And don't lie to me. I can tell when you're lying, you know!" Luke was going to lie anyways, but realized that his little sister was both too stubborn and too smart to accept a lie as the truth.

"Remember when you said that you knew I was here because you saw 'Noah drive away really fast'?" Luke quoted, trying to explain the situation in words that Natalie would understand. "It was because we had a fight. And that's got me feeling sad."

"Then why don't you make up?" Natalie asked as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

"Because, Nat… he made a big mistake, and it hurt me. And I said some not-so-nice stuff to him, too. It's not that easy to just make up." Luke was about to change the topic, but Natalie beat him to speaking.

"Not if you love him." She said simply. When Luke stared at her, she rolled her eyes again and clarified, "It's easy to make up with him if you love him. Say you're sorry! Mom makes me and Faith do that all the time."

Natalie suddenly jumped off of the hay bales, reaching her hand up to Luke. "Come on, it's too hot in here to stay!" She yelled, her young self back. "Let's go out to the pond or something."

Luke watched Natalie run out of the barn, her ponytail bouncing, before jumping off of the scratchy bales and chasing her. For now, he could push away his fears about him and Noah, the investigation, Damian, his episode in the bathroom, all of it. For now, he could simply be the brother that Natalie needed. _Maybe it is that easy._

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Luke scrubbed his sopping wet hair with the towel he found lying on a chair on the front porch before wrapping it around his body and stepping into the house. After his impromptu, still-clothed swim with Natalie and Faith – Faith had joined in after she came down to the farm to see what the commotion was all about – Luke was feeling just the slightest bit more relaxed, which was a miracle in itself.

Despite himself, he'd been dwelling on Natalie's words to him in the barn – _it's easy to make up with him if you love him._ He was still mad as hell at Noah for lying to him, that was for sure. But the niggling thought kept crossing his mind that maybe he needed to let this go, and to _talk_ to Noah instead of being his usual stubborn, judgmental self. _After all, wouldn't I have done the same if the situation were reversed?_ Reg's murder investigation flashed through his mind, and Luke winced at how hypocritical he had been.

Plus, the regret Luke felt over his harsh words to Noah was killing him inside, and he knew that he couldn't continue to carry around that kind of burden. Deciding that he would talk to Noah as soon as he got home from the station, Luke ran up to his bedroom to exchange his soaking wet clothes for baggy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt that had definitely seen better days.

Luke was about to open the door that led into the kitchen when he heard footsteps pacing, and his grandmother's voice. After waiting and realizing she was alone, Luke realized that she was probably on the phone. He was about to head back to his room to give her some privacy when her words floated to his ear, and he found himself rooted to the ground, unable to move.

"The test results are in?" She barked into the phone, "well, what did they say?" Silence. "What do you mean, you can't tell me over the phone?" Another pause, this one longer as the person on the other end tried to explain the situation. "Darling, don't lecture me about procedure. Tell me, or I'll-" Yet another break in the conversation, before she asked, "And what does that do to a person?" What seemed like the thousandth silence spread through the room, lasting so long that Luke assumed she had hung up. He was about to open the door and ask her what the hell she was talking about when Lucinda's crisp voice rang through the air once again. "Thank you _so_much for your help, darling. And don't you worry, I won't tell anyone about you breaking protocol, or my name wouldn't be Lucinda Walsh." With that, the snap of a cell phone closing could be heard throughout the room.

Luke found himself bringing a trembling hand to his mouth, resting his chin on his knuckles as the backlash of Noah lying to him _again_ stung every cell in his body. All thoughts of apologizing to Noah flew out of his mind as he realized that not only had his boyfriend held back the truth on him, but he had involved his _grandmother_.

Furious, Luke swung the door open, relishing in the loud bang made as it slammed against the wall. Lucinda wheeled around, her eyes wide in shock before her expression smoothed over.

"Luke! How are you, how are you?" She asked while she twisted an ostentatiously large ring arond her finger.

"Don't." Luke spat out, utterly disgusted. "Why didn't you tell me that Noah asked you to have private testing done on Kevin's urine sample?"

Any hopes Luke had of Lucinda proving him wrong, explaining that he misinterpreted an innocent conversation died when her eyes hardened into what Luke secretly referred to as her business mode. The look meant a fight was looming, and Luke found eager for it in his desperation for answers.

"Because, darling," she began, "he didn't want you to be stressed out about this, especially if it was nothing. And to be frank, I agreed."

"You agreed?" Luke mocked, his copyrighted bitch tone coming into play. "You didn't even consider to think that maybe I didn't _want_ to be left in the dark? That maybe I would've appreciated knowing what was going on, and that I didn't want my _boyfriend and my grandmother_ keeping this kind of secret from me?"

"Oh Luke, I love you, but grow up!" Lucinda snapped, causing Luke's jaw to drop in shock. He'd been expecting rationalizations, a plead for forgiveness, not for Lucinda to turn around and insult him.

"Wh- what?" He managed to choke out. "How do I need to grow up?"

"You asked it darling, not me." Lucinda muttered before raising her voice and continuing. "Your boyfriend – your sweet, sweet Noah – has been wracked with guilt for keeping this secret from you. He didn't tell me, but I can tell that kind of thing. And why did he keep it a secret?" Lucinda looked at Luke expectantly.

"Because he thought I'd 'react badly'." Luke quoted bitterly, hating himself for playing along with Lucinda's game. Almost unconsciously, he curled his hand into a fist, anticipating the bite of fingernails against his skin. _No._ Just as quickly, he flexed his hand, feeling shaken at how reflexive the action had been.

"No, no no!" She cried, echoing Luke's thoughts. He thought she'd realized what he had been about to do, but quickly realized she was continuing their argument. "He did it because he loves you too much! He loves you too much to have you worrying about something that could've been nothing. And you're mad about that, darling? Seriously?"

Luke wanted nothing more than to shake his grandmother and make her _see_ the problem, but settled for crossing his arms instead. "He lied to me, grandmother! Why can't you understand that?"

"You lie, I lie, he lies; it's all the same." She said calmly. "How many times have you lied to that boy?" Luke's stunned silence was her only answer. "Forgive him, Luke. You have more things to worry about than this stupid, stupid fight. Kevin's test came back positive."

Luke's protest over the 'stupid, stupid fight' died on his lips. "The… the test was positive, for drugs?" he asked, the knowledge like a ton of bricks on his shoulders. "Couldn't he have taken them himself?"

"Not unless Mr. Davis has been injecting horse sedatives into his veins." Lucinda answered briskly. "He had copious amounts of ketamine in his system, along with only the faintest traces of alcohol."

"But it was still there!" Luke cried. He knew it was irrational, but he _needed_ Kevin to be guilty, needed someone to blame. Without that, he had nothing stable.

"Luke, darling, you would have just as much alcohol in you if you swallowed some mouthwash." Lucinda replied, her tone softening as she saw her grandson's face paling.

"What… what does ketamine do?" Luke asked as he pulled out a wooden-backed chair and sat down at the table.

"It's a hallucinogen, and it-" Whatever ketamine did to a person, Luke didn't find out, because at that moment Noah burst into the farm.

"Lucinda!" He practically yelled, not seeing Luke in his hunched down position. "I talked to the Constable, Eric Harrington, at the station, and he…" Noah's voice faded off into a whisper as he rounded the kitchen's counter and saw Luke.

"He what, Noah?" Luke asked slowly, deliberately as he rose from his chair. "He what?"

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**Sorry for the rather awkward ending – the chapter would've been way too long if I ended it at the next most convenient spot. All feedback is greatly appreciated! **


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it. Don't sue, please.**

***Notes – Thank you so much to everyone who's been reviewing! It really helps to know that people are enjoying this story.**

"Hmm, Noah?" Luke asked, "not so eager to talk now that I'm here, are you?" Lucinda, the room; it all seemed to melt away until it was just him and Noah, sparks flying between them.

"Luke..." Noah began, stuffing his hands into his pockets awkwardly.

"Oh, don't even." Luke spat, all thoughts of a reconciliation gone. "I know that you were working with my grandmother. And I know that you lied to me about that, again. God, Noah! Why can't you just be honest with me? Is it really that hard?"

Noah's jaw hung open before he snapped it shut and yelled, "No, Luke! It's not that; I just didn't want you to push your family away. That's why I didn't say anything. Can't you understand that?"

"No, Noah, I can't!" Luke cried. "I can't understand why you're lying to me, over and over again! I can't understand why you treat me like I'm too young, too stupid to make my own decisions. I can't understand any of it!"

Noah was saved from answering as Lucinda, in her usual way, butt into the conversation. "Luke, I've said it before and I'm going to say it again - grow up."

Luke wheeled around, ready to snap at his grandmother, but found himself shrinking back as he saw the look in her eyes. It was the same look that had him cowering in fear as a child when he'd done something wrong, and apparently, it could still affect him all of these years later.

A triumphant look flashed across Lucinda's face, amusing Noah and enraging Luke, before it disappeared and seriousness replaced it. "Luke, I don't care, I don't care if you feel like Noah deserves to be fed to lions right now!"

"That's apparent." Luke muttered bitterly, crossing his arms and staring over Lucinda's shoulder.

"Because," she continued, ignoring Luke's outburst, "because right now... right now, we need to be worrying about Ethan. Nothing more and nothing less, do you understand me?"

Luke was silent, Lucinda's rant slowly catching up with him. _I don't have to forgive Noah, I can't... not right now. But I need to put this aside, for Ethan's sake. God, Ethan..._ Raising his head, Luke nodded shortly at his grandmother. Noah practically sagged in relief, but Luke found himself quick to correct his assumptions.

"Noah, I'm willing to put this aside, for now. but I'm still pissed as hell at you. Got it?" Luke snapped, feeling almost guilty when Noah's entire body tensed. Words from their last fight floated through his mind - "you treated me the same way your father always treated you." A small, rational part of himself realized that he'd hurt Noah more with those eleven words than noah had with all of his lies, all of his secrets. And yet he insisted on staying mad, on making Noah suffer. _Why?_

"Got it." Noah responded, his face despondent and solemn. An awkward silence fell between the two men, neither one knowing how to steer the topic back to the investigation.

Eventually, an exasperated Lucinda threw her hands in the air and yelled, "Good heavens! Do I have to do everything around here?" Turning to look at a startled Noah, she asked, "What did you have to tell us?"

A sharp retort rose to Luke's lips, but died as he saw Lucinda flash him _that look_ again. Instead, he crossed his arms like a sullen child and waited for Noah's response.

"He..." Noah took a deep breath before continuing, "he said that Kevin's toxicology report came back. Apparently, he tested clean for drugs." Noah watched as Lucinda literally gaped at him, a sight that almost caused a giggle to escape his lips. He'd seen Lucinda battle a wide variety of emotions, but flabbergasted shock had never been one of them. Noah was so amused that he almost forgot to wonder what he'd said to shock Lucinda so badly. _Oh._

"Dear boy, are you sure?" She eventually stuttered out, one jewelry encrusted hand running through her hair. "Are you positive, positive that you didn't mishear him?"

"I'm pretty sure, ma'am," Noah replied, Lucinda's doubt causing him to fall back on old habits, "but that's not all." Noah meant to continue, but Lucinda started talking over him, a trait that was both out of character and too much like her, all at the same time.

Noah was about to hold his tongue when Luke called, "Grandmother! Noah wasn't finished, yet. Give him a chance to speak." Lucinda hastily shut her mouth and mumbled an apology, something that nearly caused yet another giggle to escape from Noah's lips. Glancing over at Luke, he saw that his boyfriend's eyes had the slightest sparkle in them, a small half-smile on his lips. Noah raised an eyebrow, and Luke's expression softened further. Noah was about to step towards him when Luke stiffened, as if remembering he was mad at Noah, and folded his arms tighter across his chest, any hint of amusement gone.

"Well, Noah?" Lucinda asked, unaware of the exchange going on between Noah and her grandson. "What else do you have to tell me?"

Noah tore his gaze from Luke and glanced around the kitchen, realizing that it wasn't exactly his ideal place for recounting the past few hours. "Can we sit down?" Noah asked instead, feeling oddly hesitant. "I just would rather not talk about all of this while standing in Emma's kitchen."

Lucinda glanced at Luke and saw him reluctantly nod in agreement. With Lucinda leading the way, the three headed to the living room and sat down on the stuffed couches; Luke and Lucinda on one, Noah on the other. "Continue, darling." Lucinda commanded, absentmindedly flicking one hand in the air.

Noah shifted his weight on the couch, letting his fingers brush against the worn leather as he organized his thoughts. Feeling ready, he let his gaze travel around the room, resting briefly on Luke and Lucinda as he recounted everything from the past couple hours - his meeting with Dallas, his run in with Eric Harrington, and the information he'd learned as a result. He mentioned how Eric had attacked Dallas and that Noah believed Dallas had been strangled, but he found himself downplaying it, not mentioning his own niggling suspicion that Eric wasn't the shining knight he appeared to be.

When he finished his rather lengthy explanation, Noah found himself heading to the kitchen fridge to grab a bottle of water. His throat was oddly dry, and he found himself chugging half of the water before the nagging thirst was gone. When he re-entered the living room, he realized that he hadn't excused himself; a soft, embarrassed flush worked its way up his neck and touched his cheeks. Glancing at Luke out of the corner of his eye, Noah saw that Luke's brown eyes were brimming with reluctant curiosity, probably wondering why Noah was blushing.

Luke seemed to feel Noah's gaze on him, because his eyes shifted to the right and the expression in them dulled. Noah found himself shaking his head, wondering why Luke was being so damn stubborn. Lucinda didn't give him much time to ponder it, though, as she was practically vibrating in her seat, desperate to get back on topic.

Noah sat back down on the couch, turning to face Lucinda. "Yes, Lucinda?" He asked.

"I never said anything, darling." Lucinda replied, her eyes casting between him and Luke. With a flash of insight, Noah realized that Lucinda was putting off talking about the investigation in hopes that he and Luke would sort things out. The restraint it was taking to do so was obvious in her eyes, which were practically burning with the desire to speak.

"Lucinda, I can tell." Noah teased, clasping his hands in his lap. "So, spill."

"Well okay, darling, only because you insisted." Lucinda jabbed back, before twisting a large ruby ring on her finger as she seemed to fall into thought. Noah patiently waited it out, wondering what was on her mind.

He was about to break the silence when Lucinda brought her gaze from the ring to Noah and said bluntly, "Eric lied about the drug test."

"Wh- what?" Noah stuttered, completely shell-shocked. That had been the last thing he'd expected her to say. "How do you know?"

"Remember the urine sample I - we sent off to that private lab for testing?" Lucinda asked briskly. "I just talked to the man who works at the lab. He said that the tests came back positive for drugs, ketamine in particular, and that Kevin's blood alcohol content was practically non-existent."

Noah struggled for words, gaping the same way that Lucinda had before. When he regained the use of his vocabulary, he asked, "Are you sure? There's no chance there was a mess up, a mistake?"

"Noah, these people, this lab, they're one of the best in the country." Lucinda stated shortly. "There's no way they made a mistake. Which leaves me with the only option that this Eric Harrington lied to you. Besides, I thought it was impossible to get testing back that quickly?"

"He said he got a rush put on it." Noah said numbly, his mind swirling with questions. Cutting Lucinda off, he asked, "What was the drug again? Ket- ketamine?" The name was familiar, like the lyrics to a song he'd heard long ago but only remember in patches.

"Yes, it's ketamine." Lucinda reached out and patted Luke's knee; he'd been oddly silent. He gave her a tight, fake smile before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, hair hanging in his face.

"Well... do you know anything about it?" Noah asked curiously.

"I managed to convince the nice man on the phone to give me a background on it." Lucinda chortled, too sweetly, causing Noah to subconsciously wince in sympathy for the poor man who'd probably had his arms twisted behind his back. "It's a horse sedative, used in a similar way to how people use anesthetic."

"Why the hell would Kevin inject that into him?" Noah asked, appalled.

"First of all darling, ketamine doesn't have to be injected; it's tasteless, and can be mixed in with food or drink," Lucinda recited, as if reading off of a sheet, "and it's a hallucinogen. Remember your hunch? You were right."

Noah couldn't even find it in him to be happy that he'd been right; instead, he found himself sifting through the information, wondering what it meant for the investigation, the Snyder's, Kevin... Luke. "What else do you know?" Noah asked, stalling for time so he could wrap his head around this.

Lucinda cited off a list of facts, a few such as the length of time it took for the drug to take effect (half an hour), and the effects of it (hallucinations, paranoia, short-term amnesia) catching Noah's attention. He stored the information into the recesses of his brain, vowing to research the drug further when he had time. That vow triggered the memory of another, and he found himself remembering his subconscious worry and fear about Luke. Slowly lifting his gaze, he strained to see Luke's bare forearm. A sense of relief swirled through him when he saw the smooth skin, unmarred by marks, only to be tempered as he realized that so much of Luke's skin was covered with cloth.

"Noah? Am I talking to myself here?" Lucinda asked, breaking Noah's train of thought. He looked up and smiled sheepishly, only to realize that Lucinda's tone was light, her voice teasing. He watched as she stood up, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from her clothes before walking over to Noah, causing him to stand up instinctively.

"I've got to head to a business meeting at World Wide, and then I'm going to get a detailed report of the toxicology results faxed out to me as well as doing some background checking on this Harrington figure. We need to know why he's lying to us. Okay?" Lucinda asked, not waiting for confirmation as she arched up and kissed Noah's cheek. Noah kissed her back, her soft skin smooth against his lips, before watching her grab her purse off the couch and walk out the front door.

The moment she was gone, what felt like the thousandth awkward silence fell over the room. It lasted for a brief second, until Luke stood up and walked out of the room without a word. Noah cursed softly before standing up and following Luke out of the house. When he stepped out of the house, he saw Luke sitting on a chair on the patio, acting as if he hadn't heard Noah arrive. Bracing himself for the argument he knew was ahead, Noah sat down in the chair opposite of Luke's, sitting silently until the blonde reluctantly met his eyes.

"What?" Luke asked, his tone bitter. "Or wait, can I even ask you that? How do I know you'll tell me the truth?" The insult was weak, but the sharpness of the words made up for that. Noah kept his face blank, not allowing Luke to see that the dig affected him.

"Luke, I've apologized, and you know I mean it! What else do you want me to do?" Noah asked exasperatedly, his plan of playing it cool shot to hell.

"You could get lost," Luke snapped, "and not come back." His gaze met Noah's challengingly, showing hurt and frustration. Noah almost stood up - almost. Mid-rise, he realized that he was doing what Luke wanted him to; he was running away. Instead, he plopped back down in his chair and scooted forwards until his knees were only a hairs breadth away from Luke's.

"Is that what you really want, Luke?" Noah asked, the words reminding him of a long-ago argument about Reg and Ameera. "Do you want me to go away? Do you want me to leave here, and not come back? Or do you want me to fight for you, for us?" A silence was Noah's only answer, but Noah forged on anyway. "You once told me that you felt like you always had to fight to stand by my side. Well now, I'm going to fight for you. I screwed up Luke - big time. I lied to you, and I know that wasn't right. But I learned from my mistakes, and I promise I will never, ever leave you out like that again. Don't you think that I - we - deserve another chance?"

Noah reached out and slowly, cautiously, placed his hand over Luke's. Luke didn't move, didn't grab Noah's hand in return, but he didn't pull away, either. Noah took that as a good sign and stayed still, allowing Luke to process his thoughts. The silence stretched on, comfortable at first, but slowly becoming suffocating. Noah was about to stand up and apologize when Luke turned his hand over, palm up, an invitation for Noah to link their fingers together.

Noah's words were like a cool rush of water over Luke, chipping at the insecurities and fear that bred his stubborn attitude. Luke knew he was being wooed, but couldn't find it within him to care; Noah was right. His head still ducked, he opened his mouth to make an apology before shutting it. To Noah, actions would always speak louder than words, and he knew that his action conveyed what Noah needed to know.

"Am I forgiven?" Noah asked softly, the words like rubber on his tongue. He needed verbal proof, concrete proof, that he and Luke were okay. Luke looked up, those doe eyes clear of the bitter tinge that had been in them since reading Noah's phone that morning. He nodded his head before whispering "Yes", that one word sending Noah's heart into palpations. He leaned forward to kiss those soft lips, but was met with air. When he opened his eyes, Noah found that Luke had leaned his head back, out of Noah's reach.

Ducking his head, Noah stuttered apologizes, cursing at himself all the while._You idiot! What if you just blew everything?_

"Noah, Noah stop." Luke said, pressing a finger from his free hand against Noah's lips. "I have to say something, first. And don't look so worried!" The teasing tone was faint, but it was there, and Noah found himself relaxing ever-so-slightly.

Luke took a deep breath, the sound abnormally loud against Noah's soft breaths, before continuing. "I... I have to apologize, too."

"That's not necessary," Noah rushed out, "you didn't do anything wrong, Luke."

"Yes I did!" Luke cried, ripping his hand away from Noah and standing up. "I compared you to your father, Noah! I told you that you were like that son of a bitch, when nothing's further from the truth!" Luke rested on his knees, placing both of his hands in Noah's lap and craning his neck up to look into the brunette's face. "And for that, Noah, I'm so, so incredibly sorry. And when you were just trying to help me, I got mad at you for doing what you thought was right!" Luke's apology was slowly turning into a revelation, a fact Noah caught onto as his boyfriend continued to ramble. "I don't know, I don't know why I was so angry, but I was. And then I took it out on you, and that wasn't right. And Noah, I'm sorry." Luke gasped a breath as his rant trailed off, and was about to continue if not for Noah's lips pressed against his own.

Luke's eyes fluttered shut, but the kiss was over all too soon as Noah pulled back. "Luke, it's okay." He said softly, letting a hand drift down to stroke Luke's cheek. Noah leaned forward to kiss Luke again when a shrill ring echoed throughout the room. Noah jumped back in surprise, as did Luke, before realizing that it was the ringer of a cell phone.

The ring was unfamiliar, but Noah quickly realized it was emanating from his pocket. He pulled out the mobile, only to quickly realize that the phone wasn't his, and that the number on the caller ID was unfamiliar. "How did I get this?" He asked himself, before the memory of colliding with Eric in the station's hallway filled his mind. _I must've picked up his phone instead of mine._

"Are you going to answer it?" Luke asked, before looking closer at the phone. "Hey, when did you get a new phone?"

"I didn't." Noah replied absently, staring at the ringing phone. "I must've grabbed Eric's by accident when I bumped into him in the hallway. Both of our phones fell on the ground." Luke nodded once, and they fell silent as the phone finally stopped ringing. Just as Noah vowed to take the phone to the station and give it to Anna, it rang again, the same number calling it.

"I'll let them know that the Constable's not here right now." Noah muttered before flipping open the phone and answering. "Hello?"

"Is it done?" A raspy tone asked, oddly familiar. Noah paused for a brief second before responding.

"I'm sorry, Eric's not here right now, and..." He was cut off as the man on the other line began talking; harsh, clipped words that rang a bell in Noah's memory. The voice was becoming more and more familiar, and Noah strained to place a face to it. Suddenly, everything clicked together painfully fast - the tone, the person,_everything_ - and Noah found the hand holding the phone to his ear shaking.

"Are we understood?" The gruff voice asked. "I don't give a damn if you're Harrington's lackey, or covering up for him. He has twenty-four hours. Tell him that." There was a click, then a dial tone, and Noah numbly shut the phone before letting it drop onto his lap.

"Noah, Noah? Are you okay? What happened?" Noah vaguely heard Luke asking about him, felt Luke touching him, but couldn't bring himself to speak. Two hands grabbed his face and pulled it upwards, so that his nose was touching Luke's. Warm breath puffed onto his face, concerned brown eyes staring into him, and Noah leaned his forehead into Luke's instinctively.

"Noah... who was that?" Luke asked, a part of him knowing that he should dread the answer.

A whispered word escaped Noah's lips, so soft Luke imagined he'd dreamed it. He would've scoffed, accused Noah of playing a cruel joke, if not for the absolute fear in that one syllable, the complete terror that surrounded Noah's entire body like a stifling blanket. "Dad."

**I'd apologize for the cliffhanger, but you all probably realize how much I love to use them by now! All feedback is greatly, greatly appreciated.**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

***Notes – None really! Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing; it really helps keep me motivated! **

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"Noah? Noah, look at me." Luke tried to keep his voice steady, tried to keep his voice from wobbling. "Please, Noah." Slowly, dilated blue eyes focused in on Luke, pupil's blown wide in fear.

"Luke…" Noah wimpered, one shaking hand rising to the back of Luke's neck. "Oh god, Luke, it's him… oh god oh god oh god…" Without a word, Noah pulled Luke towards him and buried his head where Luke's neck and shoulder met.

"Shhh, Noah, it's going to be okay. We're going to get through this, I promise." Luke whispered, rhythmically stroking his boyfriend's back and feeling as Noah's free arm pull him off of his chair and into his lap. Noah's legs wrapped around Luke, holding him in place.

Luke continued to rock Noah, not sure if the motion was supposed to be comforting Noah or himself. The thought of the Colonel brought back memories of pain and paralysis, anger and isolation. But most of all, Luke remembered staring down the barrel of that gun in the middle of a forest, sure he was going to die. A shudder worked its way through his body, and he found himself clutching Noah tighter for it.

Eventually, Noah loosened his grip on Luke, lowering his legs and giving Luke the option of crawling out of his lap. Instead, Luke chose to grab Noah's hand and tug him upright, leading him to a chair wide enough for them to both sit on. Noah sat down numbly, instinctively reaching out for Luke.

Pressing his side against Noah and holding his hand tight, Luke cleared his dry throat and asked, "Can you tell me what happened?" Noah stared right through Luke, and Luke gently shook his shoulder to regain his attention, his _need_ for answers barely unchecked. "Noah, baby, I know how hard this is for you, but are you sure? Did he say who it was?"

_That_ caught Noah's attention. "He didn't say, but I know it was him." Luke's expression must've registered some of the doubt he was feeling, because Noah gripped his hand so tightly that a dull ache ran through it. "I recognized his voice Luke, I recognize how he talks, I recognize _him._ If you trust me at all, trust me on this."

"But, isn't he dead?" Luke asked softly, as if gentling his words would lessen the blow. "After he jumped off that boat…"

"He had training, from the Army." Noah said, his voice gaining conviction with every word. "He must've, he must've swam to shore, or something." Just as  
quickly, the assured tone to Noah's voice was gone, and he sounded like a young child as he asked, "Why didn't he let me know he was alive? Why did he let me suffer like that, thinking he was dead?"

"Maybe he thought you didn't care." Luke said, hating how calloused the words sounded. "Noah, we will get to the bottom of this, I promise. But I need you to tell me what he said to you." Looking into Noah's dark eyes, shadowed with shock, Luke wondered how he could've _ever_ been so furious with this perfect, damaged soul just hours ago.

"He… he said that Harrington has twenty-four hours, and he mentioned something about the investigation… and that there was 'consequence for every action'," Noah quoted, laughing bitterly. "He used to tell me that all the time. 'For every action, there's a consequence. You sleep in late one day Noah, and I'll keep you awake for three days in a row. I was only eight." Noah whispered, his mind travelling down some dark, twisted path better left untouched, "and I was _so tired._ But if my eyes shut, he'd lash me with his belt, and it would _hurt,_ and I knew that it was only a moment until he hit me again. But Luke, it would hurt so much."

Luke found his eyes stinging and a hot, angry fire bubbling in his chest. Not at Noah – never at Noah – but at the sick being who had raised him, who'd done everything in his power to destroy the sweet, gentle man sitting in front of him.

Before Luke could say a word, Noah lifted his head and absently swiped at the lone tear travelling down his cheek. "I'm sorry, Luke." Noah said, his dull tone a sharp contrast to the agony Luke had heard just moments before. "I'm whining, and we need to figure out what my da- the Colonel has to do with Eric."

"We have time for that later." Luke whispered as he stood up, pulling Noah up with him before hugging him tight to his chest. Noah relaxed into Luke for a brief second before pulling back, his forehead resting against Luke's.

"We need to do it now, Luke." Noah murmured. "I need – I need to focus on something before I go crazy. I can't just think about this, about him being alive. I need to know _why._ Please?" Noah tripped over his words, his face flushing.

"Okay," Luke whispered, "do you want me to call Lucinda? Maybe she can get the private investigators she has on the case to trace the number."

"No, I'll do it." Noah said, frowning as he saw Luke wince at his words. "I'm not pushing you away again, Luke. I promise. I just need to talk to Lucinda about this on my own. Okay?"

"Okay." Luke repeated, finding no other words would work. "I'll be inside if you need me." Luke raised their intertwined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Noah's hand before letting go and walking into the house. Leaving Noah alone on the porch was one of the hardest things Luke could remember doing, ever, but he knew that was what Noah wanted.

The moment he stepped into the house, Luke's shoulders slumped forward and he blew out a shuddering breath. "How is this possible?" He asked himself. "Maybe Noah's wrong…" Even as he said the words, he knew it wasn't true. If Noah said he talked to the Colonel, then he had talked to the Colonel.

Luke found himself sitting on the couch, not quite sure when he had walked across the room. Looking forward onto the coffee table, he saw the house phone lying on it innocuously. He reached over to grab it, to call his dad, but stopped mid-grab. _I can't do this to dad, not now. I can deal… dad doesn't need to worry about this too._

Standing back up, Luke headed outside just in time to see Noah hanging up the phone. Eric's phone. "You called her on his phone?" Luke asked, confused.

"Yeah," Noah replied, "Eric has my phone, and I didn't want to bother you to get yours."

"Noah, you're _never_ bothering me." Luke said, running a hand down Noah's arm. He wanted to say more, but realized that it wasn't the right time to press the issue. "What do you want to do now?"

"I know we should go talk to Eric… I know that, but can we just lie down?" Noah asked, ducking his head in embarrassment over his request. "I just want to hold you for a little while."

Luke chose to kiss Noah as a reply, grabbing his hand and leading him into the house, up to his old bedroom. "Always, Noah, always." Luke whispered.

**

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Luke ran his thumb across the heavy shadow's beneath Noah's eyes, watching his boyfriend as he slept fitfully. He'd fallen asleep within twenty minutes of lying on the bed, and Luke didn't have the heart to wake him.

Extracting himself from Noah's limbs, Luke stood by his window and gazed out, remembering how he'd done the same the day after Ethan's accident. _No, not accident, murder,_ he reminded himself, gazing out at the dark clouds rolling ominously across the sky. The sunny weather had taken a turn for the worse; it had been threatening to rain for days.

Luke's thoughts grew as dark as the sky outside as he allowed himself to process what the Colonel being back meant. _He was involved with Ethan's death,_ Luke realized, the words causing his hands to reflexively curl in and out, _he's the reason Ethan's gone._

A haze descended over Luke, until all he could see was red as his thoughts flew around his mind. "Eric's involved too," he whispered to himself, "and he promised me he'd help me with this. He promised!" Luke's voice cracked, and he found himself running out of the bedroom and out of the house as if possessed. "I'll make him pay."

He grabbed the Constable's phone off of the kitchen counter where Noah had set it before leaving, unaware that Noah's eyes had fluttered open, casting around the room for the blonde.

**

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Luke pulled into the parking lot of the police station, killing the engine on his car and fumbling with his seatbelt. He had driven the car that Lucinda had given him for his birthday last year, since he hadn't wanted to go back to his room and risk waking Noah up to grab his truck keys.

Pulling the keys out of the car, he felt the metal pressing against his palm. Before he knew what he was doing, he had the sharp ends of the key wrapped in his hand, and he was squeezing, letting the prongs cut through his skin. _No, I shouldn't be doing this,_ he thought weakly, but that did nothing to stop him from increasing the pressure.

As if someone dumped a bucket of water on him, he jerked and dropped the keys, letting them fall onto his lap. Horrified, Luke shoved the keys into his pocket and scrambled out of the car, slamming the door shut and leaning against his car. He stared at the red marks quickly showing on his hand, hating himself for what he'd done._I can't even control myself._

Luke felt his anger building, mixing in with this self loathing and hatred until it was a burning mass, seeping out of his every pore. Pushing himself off his car, Luke walked towards the entrance door to the station, his calm pace at opposites with his emotions.

"Luke!" He thought he heard someone yell. "Luke, stop!" Reluctantly turning around, Luke found his jaw dropping when he saw Noah running towards him, looking terrified and bedraggled.

"Noah, what are you doing here?" Luke asked in shock.

"I woke up when you left the room – I couldn't sleep without you there." Noah admitted before continuing. "I went downstairs just in time to see you pull out, and when I saw that Eric's phone was gone I knew where you went. I think I broke about a dozen speeding laws." A small chuckle rose from Noah's throat, more out of effort to seem calm than actual amusement.

"Well, you can go home, Noah." Luke said, touching Noah's hand to lessen the harshness of his words. "I just need to talk to Eric."

"We can do it together, Luke." Noah replied, grabbing Luke's hand and squeezing.

"No we can't!" Luke yelled, yanking his hand back and stepping away. "If Eric's involved with your father, then god knows what else he's doing. And if he did this to Ethan, if he's involved, I _have_ to talk to him!" Luke knew his logic made no sense, but he knew he had to do this on his own. He turned and ran before Noah could say another word, running through the doors of the police station. His entrance caused quite a few people to raise their eyebrows, but Luke ignored them, heading over to the blonde woman behind the receptionist desk.

"Is Constable Harrington here?" Luke asked, pulling out a weak attempt at the Snyder charm smile. From the receptionist's strange look, Luke suspected that it looked more like a grimace.

"He's in his office at the moment," she began, but that was all Luke needed to hear. With a muttered thank you, Luke turned and ran down the hallway to where he remembered Eric's office to be. He faintly heard Noah's thudding footsteps behind him, and that only spurred him to run faster. He didn't _want_ Noah to talk him out of his; he wanted to force Eric to talk, force him to tell the truth.

He ran into the office, slamming the door shut behind him and stopping for a brief second, allowing himself to take in the sight in front of him. Eric was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. A framed photograph was sitting in front of him; it was facing towards Eric, so Luke could only see the back of it.

Eric's head jerked up upon Luke's arrival, his brilliant green eyes locking onto hazel. "Luke, can I help you?" Eric asked, a rough quality to his voice.

"Help me? You want to know how you can help me, you bastard?" Luke screamed, "You can tell me the fucking truth!"

"The truth about what? Eric asked in what would've been a calm voice if not for the ever-so-slight wobble. Luke felt himself snap, and he lunged forwards, only to find that there were strong arms holding him back.

"Let go!" Luke screeched, struggling against his captor. "Get the hell off of me!"

"No." Noah whispered in his ear, pressing Luke tighter against him. "Not until you promise to calm down." Luke would've continued to struggle if not for the hitch in Noah's breath, the one that Luke knew was a prelude to tears.

He slowly allowed his body to relax in Noah's grip, until his boyfriend spun him around. The selfishness of what Luke had done hit him like a freight train; he'd left his boyfriend alone to deal with his father being alive, and made Noah pick up the pieces. _Again._

"Noah, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." Luke stuttered out, shame making his knees weak. "I didn't mean to leave you, I just got so _angry_ and I couldn't help it and this son of a _bitch_ keeps lying to me!" The last part of Luke's apology was directed at Eric, who was looking on with a mix of surprise and confusion, a hint of understanding layered under his eyes.

"I've been lying to you?" Eric asked, his voice too calm and his tone too flat.

"Oh, come off of it." Noah snapped in a tone Luke didn't know his former Boy Scout knew how to use with authority figures. "Have you seen your phone lately?"

"What?" Eric asked, a hand automatically reaching into his pockets. "Of course I do, it's right here." He pulled out his phone, flipping it open before doing a double take. "Wait a minute…"

"That's mine." Noah said in that same cold tone, motioning for Luke to pass him Eric's phone. Instead, Luke chucked the phone at Eric, laughing humorlessly as the man fumbled to catch it. "By the way, you have a missed call. You should check it." Luke raised an eyebrow in shock as his boyfriend continued to bait the Constable. It was so out-of-character for his boyfriend, and yet somehow not.

Eric caught their gaze for a brief moment before lowering it to his phone, scanning his messages. His lips parted and his face paled, leaving behind a faint version of the confident man who'd stood in front of them just moments ago.

"A private number called? Big deal." Eric said, forcing a laugh that reminded Luke of fingernails scratching down a chalkboard. "What's the problem?"

"The problem," Luke taunted, stepping in front of Noah, "is that we talked to the person on the other end of the phone. And we know that he's an escaped convict, and that you're following out his commands." Luke stepped into Eric's personal space as he continued. "So, why are you associating with Colonel Mayer?"

"My father." Noah added, stepping beside Luke and brushing his fingers against Luke's hand in reassurance. "Unless you want me to call the cops – real cops," he added, watching as Eric paled further, "I'd suggest you start talking. Now."

Eric's gaze darted from Luke, to Noah, to the photo on his desk, fast enough to make Luke dizzy. He seemed to be weighing his options; after a moment, he collapsed in his chair and set the picture frame on his lap.

"What do you want to know?" Eric asked, those green eyes filled with a grim acceptance that he couldn't hide any longer.

"Start at the beginning." Noah replied sharply. "How do you know my father? What do you have twenty-four hours left to do?"

"What have you been doing with the investigation?" Luke added in, his voice undecipherable. "Does this… does this have to do with Ethan?"

Eric looked up, a pained amusement in his gaze. "How about I just start from the beginning?" He asked, watching as Luke and Noah nodded slowly.  
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**Feedback is love!**


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – Thank you so much to everyone that's been dropping feedback! It really means a lot to me.**

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"I'm a father." Eric stated, picking the picture frame up from his lap and facing it towards Luke and Noah. The picture showed a little girl, around seven or eight years old, wearing a beach hat and a bathing suit. She was standing beside Eric, her little hand swallowed up by his, her face reflecting a mix of absolute trust and joy.

"So?" Luke asked quickly, looming over Eric. "You have a child, big deal. What does that matter to me?"

"Look closer." Eric sighed, pushing the picture towards Luke. He reluctantly picked it up, noticing the beach in the background, the bucket in the little girl's hand, and her hair… or lack thereof. She was completely bald; her wide brimmed beach hat had prevented Luke from noticing immediately.

"Luke?" Noah whispered, the one syllable expressing his confusion. Luke passed the picture back to Eric before grabbing Noah's hand for support.

"Cancer." Luke stated, more of an answer than a question. Eric nodded his head slowly, picking up the picture and hugging it to his chest.

"Leukaemia." Eric corrected. "She was diagnosed when she was five, and went into remission a year and a half later." Part of Luke wanted to force Eric to get back on topic, but he had a feeling that this story was important. "But the cancer came back when she turned eight, and it's much more aggressive than before. The chemotherapy and treatments seemed to be working, and I thought, 'maybe we can beat this'."

"O-kay," Luke replied, dragging the word out into two syllables. "What does this have to do with anything I want to know?"

"Just wait!" Eric snapped, the barely disguised anger in his tone causing Luke to take a step backwards. Just as quickly, Eric calmed and stroked his thumb across the picture's frame, an expression of wonder on his face. Luke felt the strong heat of Noah's chest against his back, and was grateful for it; something about Eric seemed unstable, like a volatile bomb, ready to explode at the slightest contact. Memories of those dark fingerprints on Dallas's neck rose to Luke's mind, and he shivered involuntarily.

"I'm a single father, Luke." Eric said, changing the topic yet again. "My wife… she died in childbirth. Sarah's the only person I have left in this world. And then my insurance company said we reached "our maximum lifetime benefits" and that we weren't eligible for renewal. Because of the leukemia, she is "uninsurable due to a pre-existing condition." Eric's voice was nearly a growl as he quoted what had been told by the insurance companies.

The hand holding the photograph began to tremble, and then shake so violently that Eric was forced to set it back on his lap. "They were going to let my baby girl _die_because they weren't willing to shell out a couple of extra damn dollars!"

Luke forced his face to remain impassive, but he knew that he was doing a rather poor job at it. After everything he'd been through with his grandmother and her bout with cancer, he knew how much it took out of both the person suffering and the family around them. He didn't say that, though; instead, he kept a steady gaze on Eric and waited for the man to continue.

"Get to the point." Noah commanded, the tenseness of his body against Luke the only cue that Eric's words were affecting him.

"I was desperate," Eric continued, now talking to Noah, "and I didn't know what to do. Money was running out, and the doctors suggested some new kind of therapy, one with a higher success rate. But I couldn't afford it. She was going to _die_, because of me." A single tear fell onto the glass of the picture, sliding down the smooth surface.

"So you needed money." Luke prodded, his tone less harsh than it he would've liked it to be. But how could he demand from a man who was in his own personal hell?

"Yes, I needed money," Eric repeated without batting an eye, "I would've done anything for it. _Anything._ I was preparing to sell my home when I was contacted by a stranger. He told me that he could directly deposit enough money in my bank account to pay for Sarah's treatment."

"And you believed him?" Luke asked, the words slipping from his mouth. "You believed a total stranger?"

"No, of course not!" Eric yelled, his eyes positively burning at Luke. "Not initially, at least. But then two weeks later, there was a call from the bank, confirming a transfer of money into my account. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to get Sara through the next month." The expression on Eric's face wasn't one of greed, or want; it was simply the desperation of a father to protect his child.

"I don't know how the man knew which account was mine, or how he transfered his money into it. All I knew was that the money continued to come in, every month, and I became too dependant on it." Eric shook his head regretfully. "Last month, there was a phone call instead of a deposit. The man told me that if I wanted the money to continue to come, I needed to 'do him a favour'. I was desperate." Eric said simply, no shame in his tone. "I asked him what he wanted."

"And he wanted you to _murder my brother_?" Luke yelled, fresh hatred for the man in front of him rolling through his veins like liquid fire. "How can you justify that?"

"God no!" Eric cried, jumping upright. "I would never, ever kill someone as innocent as your brother. Ever." Taking a deep breath, Eric continued. "He asked me if I was willing to do anything. I said yes. The man said that he'd call me back, and he hung up."

"Three days later, your brother's case showed up on my desk." Eric said, hints of remorse echoing in his voice. "He called me that day, and he told me that my job was to make the car crash look like an accident."

"Did he say why?" Luke cut in, breathing shallowly. Partly because of what he was hearing, and partly because Noah's arms were wrapped so tightly around his waist that he could hardly inhale.

"No, but he was furious," Eric replied, green eyes clouding over, "he kept saying that it went wrong, and that 'they were going to figure it out'."

"Who's they?" Noah asked gruffly, his arms continuing to pull Luke to him.

"You, I'd guess." Eric said simply. "You, or one of the Snyder's."

"So wait..." Luke butt in, "you were willing to cover up two _murders_, one attempted and one successful?"

"It was my only choice, Luke!" Eric cried. "Can't you understand that? I had _no other option!_ It was rather forge these papers, hide these results, doctor these tests, or let Sarah die! I figured, I figured that the accident had already happened, and that it was too late for anything to be done, so it was okay!"

Noah's arms went from being comforting to constraining as Luke glared daggers at Eric, feeling completely repulsed. Noah tensed instinctively, probably expecting Luke to fight to break away, or to start hurling insults. Instead, Luke forced himself to relax and asked, "What results did you hide?"

Eric sat back down in his chair, defeated, and grabbed the frame picture again. "Remember a few weeks ago, when an officer contacted you about the mechanical work done to your car?"

"Yeah… her name was Lydia, I think." Luke said, straining back to remember the conversation. "She said that she believed someone I knew caused my car to break down, something about them knowing the layout of the car or something like that."

"That, and the fact that it wouldn't have looked suspicious if someone you were publicly friends with was by your car." Noah threw in, causing Luke to twist and look at him in surprise. "Hey, I can put pieces together, too." Noah added.

"But they weren't able to lift any valid fingerprints off the car, right?" Luke asked, watching as Eric hesitated in his answer. A cold wave descended upon Luke as he realized what had happened. "You changed the documents, didn't you?"

"Yes," Eric replied unflinchingly, "I lied. We managed to pull off several complete fingerprints, but I told the assisting officers and wrote in the official report that they were too poor of quality to use."

"Do you know who it was?" Luke asked, dreading the possibilities. Noah squeezed Luke for what seemed like the millionth time; a reminder that he was right there with him.

"Of course!" Eric replied, looking affronted that Luke even considered the possibility that he didn't. "I wanted to know what I was dealing with; I ran the prints off-the-clock and erased the information from the database after."

"Who… who was it?" Noah asked when Luke was silent for several moments. "Give us a name." The demand seemed to surprise Eric.

"The name that popped up was Anthony Olsen." Eric replied slowly, studying Luke and Noah's faces for any hint of recognition. When all he received was two blank stares, he sighed and said, "You might know him better as Tony, from your GBLT club."

"It's not a club." Luke said instinctively, even as shock barrelled into him for the countless time that day. _When is this going to end?_

"Tony… like Tony, Tony?" Noah asked carefully, as if he was expecting Eric to jump in and explain it as a slip of the tongue. "As in the Tony that dated Reg? The Tony that goes to school with us, the Tony that's our _friend_?"

"I wouldn't know," Eric responded before opening a drawer and digging deep through stacks of papers within it. "Here's a picture, though." He reached out a tanned arm and extending the picture to Luke, who stared at it for a brief second before snatching it from Eric's hand; his own hand was shaking so hard that he could barely see the photograph.

"Oh god." Noah whispered, looking over Luke's shoulder. Luke blinked rapidly and brought his free hand up to grab his wrist, stilling his hand. The photo was a mug shot, and Luke guessed that Tony would've been around fourteen. He looked young, yet hard; expressionless eyes staring back at him.

"Why?" Luke whispered, the one word congealing in his throat until it felt like it was choking him.

"His father robbed a convenience store at gun point, and Tony was in the car at the time." Eric explained. "When the police arrived on the scene, Tony's father fled the scene and drove for over twenty miles with the police tailing him. When they finally caught him, they arrested Tony as well. His record was erased after his trial, since he was a minor and his father was forcing him to help, but the documentation was still in the crime database."

"No," Luke corrected, still staring at the picture in his hand, "why did he betray me like this? I don't understand… I thought we were friends?"

Eric was silent, at a loss for words. Noah's whispered, "I don't know", but that did little to calm the chaos reigning inside of Luke.

"That's not important." Eric dismissed, reaching over and taking the picture back from Luke.

"The hell it's not!" Luke snapped, grabbing the picture back and ripping it in half. "The bastard was involved, and he had the nerve to apologize to me about Ethan!" Memories of that apology etched themselves in Luke's psyche; _I mean it Luke… I'm sorry about everything. I wish I could change it._

"Unless he wasn't apologizing about Ethan." Noah pointed out softly. "What if he was apologizing for whatever he did?"

"No, no no no!" Luke cried, pulling out of Noah's arms. "Tony wouldn't do this! I know he wouldn't – there was a mistake, there has to be!"

"Luke… how well did we know Tony?" Noah asked, hating that he even had to raise the question. "We've only truly talked to him at the GBLT meetings. We don't really know what he was capable of."

"Do you think he would've done this, _knowing_ that it Ethan would _die_?" Luke asked with the slightest hitch in his voice. "Do you really think our friend was capable of that, Noah?"

Noah held Luke's impassioned gaze for a long moment before dropping his head onto Luke's shoulder. "No," he said softly as a response, "I don't."

"Then bring him in for questioning and find out why!" Luke cried. Noah raised his head in confusion before realizing that Luke's question was directed at the Constable. "Please, Eric."

"I can't!" Eric cried, a heavy regret mixed with shame in his voice. "I need that money, Luke. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

"Yes you can!" Luke replied quickly, watching as Eric opened his mouth to respond. Luke talked quickly, hoping to make the man listen. "Have you ever heard of the Luke Snyder Foundation?"

"Yeah…" Eric muttered, looking lost in the turn of the conversation, "it's that foundation for gay rights, isn't it?"

"That's part of it." Luke said with the smallest of smiles on his lips. "We also have a large section of the foundation dedicated to helping kids with illness and disease. I almost died when I was younger of a kidney infection," Luke stated, watching Eric's eyes widen in surprise, "and I wanted the foundation to support kids who went through the same stuff I did."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Eric quickly asked.

"It has to do with _everything_." Luke responded, feeling Noah step beside him while keeping one arm wrapped around his waist. "We can pay for Sarah's treatment, and help you with other expenses. You won't need to rely on this stranger anymore; we can help you."

"It's not that easy!" Eric snapped, standing up from his chair. "I'm already up to my shoulders in this mess… I can't just end it, just like that."

"Why not?" Luke asked, genuinely confused. "I can tell you're a good guy, Eric. You were trying to do what's right for your kid, and no one can blame you for that. Do what's right for both your kid and your career now. Noah and I won't tell anyone about this… just tell the truth."

Eric shook his head violently from side to side in response. Luke was about to try a different tactic when Noah's low baritone filled the room, a commanding tone in it that Luke and Eric were helpless to resist.

"What do you know about the man you're working for?" Noah asked, his voice sliding over Luke like a dark chocolate, rich and dark with just the hint of something more beneath the surface. Eric simply gave Noah a blank look in response, so Noah added, "Colonel Mayer."

"I don't work for him," Eric whispered, and continued, "nothing, really. I do what he asks, and that's that."

"You're a father, right?" Noah asked, causing Luke to raise an eyebrow. _What's he planning?_

"You know that I am." Eric replied sharply, picking at a hangnail on his thumb – a nervous tick, Luke realized. "Why?"

"As a father, you'd do anything to protect your daughter, right? You'd die for Sarah, move mountains for her. Right?" Noah pressed, seemingly oblivious to the way that Eric tensed at his words.

"Noah, what are you doing?" Luke whispered into his ear, beginning to grow concerned. Noah didn't reply to him though; he stared at Eric, blue eyes shadowed and yet somehow clear.

"In a heartbeat." Eric said, his voice showing complete conviction. Luke's head swivelled from Eric back to Noah, feeling as if he was watching an elaborate game of ping pong.

"So then, you're okay with protecting a man who knew nothing about being a father?" Noah asked in that same dark tone, unintentionally seductive. "You'd be fine with protecting the monster that I lived with for eighteen years, all the while knowing that there's another option?"

"Noah…" Luke whispered, not sure if he wanted to know where this conversation was heading. Eric was drinking in Noah's every word, and Luke could practically see his previous decision wavering.

A light entered Eric's eyes as he said, "He can't have been that bad. Just because he didn't let you party out all night or have girls over, that doesn't make him a monster."

Luke could literally _feel_ his teeth grind at the Constable's callous statement. He was about to make a sharp retort when Noah squeezed his waist lightly, a silent cue to be quiet. Luke reluctantly obeyed, but brought a hand up to cup Noah's cheek briefly first.

Their interlude was broken when Noah turned back to Eric, his eyes darkening – not in fury, but some other nameless emotion – as he spoke. "You're right; that wouldn't make him a monster. But if I told you that he locked me in the trunk of a car for two days because I got a B on my science report in grade four? Would that make him a monster? If I said that he killed my mother and paralyzed my boyfriend for months, would _that_ make him a monster? If I said that he made me feel so worthless that I wanted to die throughout most of middle school, would that make him a monster?"

Eric's face was chalky pale, a slow hand running through his hair. "Yes," he whispered, "it would."

"Then I think you should do what you know is the right thing." Noah urged, leaning ever-so-slightly into Luke's warmth. "Say you pulled a usable fingerprint, arrest Tony, and figure what the hell is going on before my father can hurt someone else." A brief pause lingered before Noah added "Please."

Eric stood silently in the middle of the room, his indecision smothering both Luke and Noah. A small part of Luke was worried that they pushed the volatile Constable to far, but he barely paid that part of him any attention. The larger, screaming part of him was trying to digest Noah's words – trying to, and failing. _Locked in a car for two days? He wanted to, to kill himself?_

Noah was almost convinced that Eric was going to ignore his plea's when he silently picked up his office phone and dialled a number. Noah found himself clutching Luke to his side when he heard the Constable say in a hardened tone, "Anna? Can you page Detective Jack Snyder and tell her that we have a lead on the Snyder investigation? He's asked to be updated on the case. What about? Tell him that we've lifted a set of prints off of the car that belong to an Anthony Olsen." Noah's entire body went numb as he listened to Eric prattle off information on where to find Tony. "Tell Jack to bring the suspect to the station immediately; I need to question him."

Eric unceremoniously hung up the phone before walking over to stand in front of Luke. "I'm going to need the help of your foundation." He said simply, watching as Luke nodded in response. Eric grabbed Luke's hand and shook it before walking to the door. He opened it before pausing, then turned around and looked at Noah. "I'm sorry," was all he said before he walked out of the room, the door shutting shut softly behind him.

As soon as Eric was gone, Luke turned and had Noah's face between his hands before Noah knew what was happening. "God, Noah." Luke whispered, his thumbs stroking across smooth skin. "Do you want to talk?" He asked helplessly, wishing their was something, _anything_ he could do.

"No." Noah whispered back, leaning forward until his forehead touched Luke's. "Can you just, just hold me? For a little bit… please?" Noah had barely finished the sentence when Luke pulled him tight, so close that it felt as if he could simply sink into Luke's skin and be with him, always.  
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	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – I've almost finish posting my prewritten chapters, so updates may slow down to one a week, but I'll keep trying to write/post regularly!**

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Luke and Noah were still entwined when Eric came back to his office five minutes later. He glanced at them briefly before saying that an officer was heading out to arrest Tony, and that he would be brought to the station in a matter of minutes. Luke lifted his head the slightest bit off of Noah's shoulder before bringing it back down in an attempt at a nod. Eric seemed to understand, because he nodded back and left. Noah was silent throughout the entire exchange; his back was to the Constable, and he rather wasn't paying attention, or was just ignoring the man.

When Eric left the room, Luke vaguely realized that Noah wouldn't be able to move out of their embrace, even if he wanted to; Luke was squeezing him too tightly. Reluctantly, Luke relaxed his grip but kept Noah encased in his arms, desperately wanting to hold onto the damaged man who was making his heart ache.

"Did you hear what Eric said?" Luke murmured into Noah's ear, the words sounding too loud, too awkward, in the silence. A pause, then Luke felt Noah's cheek brush against his hair in what he assumed was a nod.

"Yeah." Noah mumbled back before dropping his arms to his sides and pulling away from Luke, releasing him from the hug. Cold air rushed in and quickly invaded where Noah's body had been moments before, and Luke desperately wanted to pull his boyfriend back to him.

"Are you…" Luke began to ask, before realizing how stupid his question would be. _Are you okay? He's obviously not okay, you dumbass!_

"Luke?" Noah asked, the tiniest glimmer of amusement in those blue eyes. "Did you just call yourself a dumbass?"

"What? No!" Luke yelled, cursing as he realized that he'd been talking out loud. The spontaneous swearing seemed to amuse Noah even further, and the slightest smile curved his lips, an expression Luke thought would've been impossible to make just minutes before. He silently vowed that he would continue to be an idiot if it meant that Noah would keep smiling, even if it was ever-so-slight.

"Sure you didn't." Noah teased, his voice lacking its usual confidence. _But at least he's there_, Luke thought, _talking to me, teasing me._

Luke glanced at Noah from under his eyelashes, only to see the brunette staring at him with an expression of intense concentration on his face. "What?" Luke asked quietly, beginning to feel nervous.

"It's just…" Noah began before reaching out and smoothing a lock of hair back from Luke's forehead, "you know how much I love you, right?" There was an undeniable question in Noah's voice, and Luke felt the aching in his heart double as he realized how insecure Noah was feeling.

"Of course I know, Noah… and I love you, too. So, so much." Luke brought a hand up to Noah's cheek and pressed a gentle, slow kiss to his mouth. "And no matter what happens, that's not going to change."

"Do you promise?" Noah asked, sounding small. For the first time, Luke could truly see the little boy in Noah that had been beaten, repressed for most of his life.

"Promise." Luke whispered around the lump in his throat. He kissed Noah again, just resting his lips against his lovers, feeling the connection and reassuring himself that it was there, real, and that no one could come between them.

They broke the kiss just moments before there was a knock on the wooden door frame, causing both Luke and Noah to spin around. Eric was standing at the door, his face clear of any judgement.

"Anthon- Tony has been brought into the station. He's being held in the interrogation room right now." Eric stated.

Luke tensed despite himself, and Noah began rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back. "Can we talk to him?" Luke asked, knowing the question was just a formality; he was going to talk to Tony, whether Eric approved it or not.

"Follow me." Eric said as an answer, reminding Luke of their first meeting, weeks ago. Without looking behind him, he stepped out of his office and into the hallway, expecting Luke and Noah to follow – which they did.

Eric stopped in the middle of the hallway, his gaze on the door to his left. "You have five minutes." He said, his understanding expression belying the commanding tone he used. Luke chose to nod as an answer, walking past Eric and standing in front of the closed door that led to the interrogation room.

He felt Noah's presence behind him, and his low "You ready?" seemed to echo in the air between them. Part of Luke wondered how Noah could ask if _he_ was ready, considering the virtual hell the last twenty-four hours had been to the brunette.

"No," Luke answered honestly, placing a hand on the door knob and feeling the cool metal beneath his flushed skin, "but let's go."

Luke pushed the door open, not quite sure as to what he was expecting to see; Tony sitting arrogantly, Tony raving mad, or something worse. Instead, the sight that met his eyes was Tony hunched over in his chair at the steel table, his eyes downcast. A low _thump, thump, thump_ was filling the room, echoing rhythmically. Both Luke and Noah glanced about, looking for the source of the noise. Moments later, Luke realized that Tony was bouncing his leg underneath the table, smashing his knee against the metal. _Hard, too_, he realized, _in order to be creating that kind of noise._

Luke turned to glance at Noah, only to be surprised by the familiarity in his boyfriend's eyes. Hearing Luke's silent question, Noah leaned forward and whispered, "It just, it reminds me of when I saw Kevin." The reminder of Noah's betrayal caused Luke's jaw to clench, but he quickly forced himself to relax, realizing he needed to just let it go.

Refocusing himself, Luke cleared his throat and called Tony's name. The brunette didn't flinch, didn't look up – nothing. "Tony?" Luke said again, a question this time, only to be greeted with the rising of that echoing noise.

Luke was about to try and again when he realized that Noah had stepped away from him, and was standing in front of the table. "Tony!" Noah yelled before slamming his fist on the metal table violently. Tony jolted ever-so-slightly, his eyes flickering upwards. Noah pressed his reaction, leaning over the table and hovering his face inches from Tony's. "Why the fuck did you do it? You have five seconds to start talking."

The cuss word, along with Noah's actions, caused Luke to take the smallest of steps backwards in surprise. His sweet, gentle Noah looked _hard_, uncaring. A tingle of fear trickled down Luke's spine – not of Noah, but _for_ Noah – accompanying Noah's childhood confessions that had been playing through Luke's mind as if stuck on repeat.

"Now, Tony." Noah growled, bringing Luke out of his thoughts. Something in Noah's voice – the underlying threat, maybe – caused Tony's eyes to flicker in understanding. Looking like a lost and confused child, Tony's gaze travelled slowly from Noah to Luke, then back to Noah. He was about to look back down when Noah leaned in further, using his sheer physical presence to keep the other man's attention.

"Why." Noah demanded, that hardness that Luke had glimpsed multiplying by the second. Briefly, Luke realized that this was an insight into the man that Noah _could've_become; cold, demanding, cruel. _But he isn't like that – he rose past it._ Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, Luke felt a rush of love for the man who was so much stronger than he thought, who had risen above the disgusting mess he had been forced to call a father.

Abruptly, Tony mumbled something, shaking Luke out his ponderings. "Repeat that." Noah commanded, Tony's garbled words as unintelligible to him as they were to Luke.

"He said you loved me" Tony's voice was clear, but none of that clarity was echoed in his eyes. "He said, he said you loved me, you loved me, you loved me you loved me you loved me…"

Shock had Noah reeling backwards until his back was flush against the concrete wall of the cell, while Luke looked on numbly, his gaze flying between Noah and Tony.

"What?" Luke choked out before remembering to breathe. Noah was yet to make a sound as he looked at Tony, a mix of shock and rage on his face.

"He said that you loved me." Tony repeated slowly, as if talking to a young child. "But you don't love me, do you?"

"What?" It was Noah's turn to choke out the word, followed by, "I… I _loved_ you?" The question seemed so out-of-place, so _random_, that Noah was sure he'd misheard the man.

"That's what he said." Tony explained, matter-of-factly. Somehow, that was more frightening then his earlier ramblings. "The man, he told me that you loved me, but you couldn't _be_ with me because of Luke, because of Luke. Because Luke wouldn't let you be with me."

"So you decided to kill me?" Luke asked, the words sounding foreign in his throat. "You decided to kill me?" He repeated, unable to say anything more.

"No, no no no no no!" Tony screeched, the steady thumping growing faster and faster. "He was going to take you away! That's all! Take you away, take you away, and then Noah was going to be with me, and I was going to be happy! But he lied to me, because he doesn't love me, and you're not away, and he's dead, he's dead, and none of its right!"

Luke heard the door click behind him, heard Noah's footsteps travelling down the hall before the door shut, and wanted nothing more than to chase after his boyfriend. Instead, he forced himself to ask one last question.

"They were going to kidnap me?" He asked slowly, carefully, hoping Tony would even hear the question through his diatribe.

"No!" Tony yelled yet again. "Take you away, take you away, so you'd be happy! Not kidnap, not kill. Killed like Ethan, killed like Reg, killed like mom, killed killed killed." With that, desperate sobs had Tony's entire body shaking, heaving in pain.

Luke took one last look at the raving man in front of him before turning on his heel and running out of the room, intent on chasing after Noah. He nearly smashed into Eric on the way out, and his wide eyes must've clued the Constable in on what happened.

"Bathroom." was all Eric said before rushing into the interrogation room, only to poke his head back out and yell, "I need back-up, and sedatives!" Luke paid him no mind though; he sprinted through the hallways, almost passing the public bathrooms before realizing what they were.

As soon as he stepped inside, an awful retching filled his ears, the kind that only comes from vomiting. Luke rushed into the only occupied, unlocked stall to find Noah squatting and wiping the traces of vomit away from his mouth.

"Noah, Noah baby." Luke whispered, crouching down beside Noah and rubbing his back gently. "Oh, baby…"

Noah slowly stood up and pushed past Luke, heading to the sink. He turned the tap on and gargled water before spitting it out. Splashing his face, he reached over to grab a paper towel when he saw Luke standing beside him, paper towel in hand.

"Let me." Luke said simply. Noah eyed him before closing his eyes, permission for Luke to do what he wanted. Within seconds, he felt the abrasive surface of the paper towel drying his face, blotting, not rubbing. Noah remembered how Luke would always scold Noah when he caught him washing his face at night with a washcloth. _Blot, never rub!"_ He'd always tease before grabbing the cloth away from Noah. _"You wouldn't want to wreck that perfect skin, would you?"_

The memory of how _normal_ everything used to be caused a strangled laugh to bubble up in Noah's throat, spilling over. Luke's ministrations paused briefly, but then he continued, slowly wiping the water away from Noah's face.

Noah felt Luke lift the paper towel away from his face, heard him crumple it into a ball and throw it in the garbage, but didn't open his eyes.

"Noah?" Luke asked, his voice low and calm. "Baby, can you look at me? Please?" Reluctantly, Noah opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh, artificial light filling the bathroom. "Thank you." Luke said softly, carefully.

"How can you even look at me?" Noah asked, watching Luke's eyes darken in confusion. "This is all my fault-"

"No!" Luke yelled, causing Noah to press his back against the sink counter in an instinctive response, flashing back to his childhood. Just as quickly, Luke was ghosting his hands over Noah's arms, his face, his chest, murmuring, "I'm sorry" over and over again.

Noah took a timid step away from the counter towards Luke, an silent acceptance of the apology. "No," Luke repeated, softer this time, "it's not your fault. None of it."

"How can you say that, Luke?" Noah cried, agony tingeing his words. "My father's behind this and Tony did what he did because, because…" Noah was unable to finish his sentence due to the sob building in his throat, cutting off speech. He moved to break away from Luke, but was stopped as the blonde set his hands on the counter beside Noah's hips, trapping him there.

"Noah, love, listen to me." Luke ordered, his voice still soft. "None of this is your fault. Got that? None. Of. It." Even though his words were strong, Luke's expression was loving, his voice gentle. "Nothing your dad has ever done, _ever_, is your fault."

"But Luke," Noah implored, trying desperately to make the blonde understand, "didn't you hear Tony? He did this because he said I _loved_ him." Noah spat out the word 'loved', making is sound dirty, unwanted. "I must've led him on, or something!"

"No." Luke repeated, hands lifting from the counter to Noah's face, directing those agonized blue eyes to overfilling brown. "Tony's not sane, Noah. You did _nothing_wrong. He was manipulated, and you had no part of it." Noah opened his mouth again, and Luke pressed a hard kiss to it, shutting Noah up before he even had the chance to speak.

"Is it my fault that I was driving the car when this happened?" Luke asked when the kiss broke. "Is it my fault that because I was with my brother, he died? Is it my fault that I didn't protect him?" Luke voiced his fears, the ones that kept him tossing and turning in the middle of the night, causing him to wish he could turn back time but knowing that he couldn't.

"No!" Noah cried instinctively, looking shocked at the idea. "Of course not!" And for the first time, Luke believed him.

"Then how is this your fault?" Luke retorted, watching Noah struggle for an answer. "Noah, if you trust me about _anything_, trust me when I say that none of this is your fault. Okay?"

"Okay." Noah replied heavily. Luke could still see the doubt, the pain, behind those sapphire eyes, but chose to let it be – for now. The last thing Noah needed was an argument about this, and Luke knew that he wouldn't be able to convince his boyfriend of anything at the moment.

Switching tactics, Luke said, "At least we know, now." Noah looked up in shock, and Luke hastened to continue. "It's just, now that we _know_ what's happening, we can make it better. The worst is over."

"Do you really believe that?" Noah asked, part sarcastic, part hopeful. "Promise?"

"I promise." Luke replied, unaware that it was a promise he'd be unable to keep.

**

Eric inhaled slowly, allowing the humid, warm air to fill his lungs. He was standing outside of the emergency exit door located just down the hall from his office, dry only due to the overhang above the door, watching as grey clouds rolled through the sky, bringing fierce rains and fiercer lightening.

Even as a child, he'd found something cathartic about thunderstorms, in the way rain sprinkled the earth while thunder crashed violently, a paradox that made perfect sense. This thunderstorm wasn't following his childhood memories – rain was pelting the ground, stinging anyone who was unfortunate enough to be caught under it. Lightening flashed, thunder clapped, and Eric watched through narrowed green eyes, unsure as to what he was looking for.

Letting his eyes take in the primal beauty of the storm, Eric allowed his mind to wander back to his investigation, and the man currently being interrogated – Anthony Olsen. He knew instinctively that the interrogation would lead nowhere; according to the files pulled up against 'Tony', the man had been flirting with the edge of insanity for months now, and apparently this incident had pushed him over. Not that Eric could blame him; his father was currently serving life in prison for murdering a police officer upon his second arrest – a fact that Eric hadn't mentioned to Luke or Noah – his boyfriend had died due to drugs that Tony had allegedly urged him to try, and his mother was in the psych ward herself after attempting suicide the month previous. _That's enough to mess any kid up._

His mind was turning over every aspect of the case when flash of black caught his eye, standing out against the greyness of the world. Eric looked over to see a man marching towards him.

"Excuse me, sir!" He called out, yelling to be heard over the rumbling of the skies, "Access through these doors is not allowed; I have to ask if you could proceed to the front doors. It's protocol." The man rather didn't hear him or didn't care, drawing closer and closer. A tingle of warning shot down Eric's spine, but he quickly shook off the feeling.

Gradually, blurred details became clear, and Eric was able to make out a full length black overcoat, black leather gloves, and black boots. Briefly, an image of Sarah dressed up as a ninja from the previous year's Halloween flashed through his head, and he couldn't stop the nogalistic smile from spreading across his face.

The smile quickly faded when he got a good look at the man's face. Thin lips were pressed together in a firm line, eyebrows drawn low, and a jaw clenched. When Eric looked into those eyes, there was a determination, a cruelness, lingering so close to the surface of the steely blue orbs that Eric's tingle of concern turned into a flash of genuine fear.

"Can I help you?" Eric asked, ignoring the instinct to call out for back up. Casually, he let his free hand drift down to his hip, where his gun was. When his hand was met with air, he realized that his gun was in its holster… on his desk. The man's eyes flickered down, noticing Eric's nearly imperceptible movements, and a wide smile pulled at the other man's lips, stretching them in a way that made him look anything but amused.

"Yes you can, Constable Harrington." The man said, a mocking tone on Eric's title. "Did you know that she has green eyes, just like you?"

"Who?" Eric whispered before he could help it, all the while knowing what the answer would be. _Sarah_.

"I bet if she wasn't bald, she'd have blonde hair. And the way she lisps when she speaks too fast… simply adorable." The man continued, obviously aware of the effect his words were having on Eric.

"What have you done with her?" Eric asked over the thunder, over the roaring in his ears.

"Nothing, yet." The man said, stepping under the overhang and joining Eric. He stood next to the other man as casually as if they were waiting for a bus. He continued to look ahead, not paying Eric any mind as he asked, "Now, aren't you going to ask me who I am?"

Quick as the lightening that flashed around them, Eric dove to his right in an attempt to tackle the other man. Faster than he knew possible, the stranger ducked and stepped out of the way, causing Eric to hit the pavement and smash his head on the wall – hard. Just as quickly, he was up on his feet, his brain spinning with questions and his body struggling to right itself.

"Who are you?" Eric demanded, "What have you done with Sarah? Tell me!"

"First answer," the man replied, pulling his hood off to reveal greying hair, "I'm Colonel Winston Mayer. We've talked on the phone. You should be nicer to someone who's paying for your daughter's medical treatment." The only thing that stopped Eric from throwing a punch was complete, mind-blowing shock. "You're… you're him?" He asked before he could stop himself, "You're Noah's father?" _He locked me in the trunk of a car for two days… he killed my mother and paralyzed my boyfriend…_

"Yes, I'm his father," Winston said, a fanatical look entering his eyes, "and you're going to help me reunite with my son."

"No way in hell!" Eric shot back, his brain working slower than his mouth. A glint of silver, then there was a gun held inches away from his chest. The hand holding the gun was steady, and Eric didn't doubt for a second that this man would shoot him.

"Oh, I say you will." The Colonel said, nodding towards the gun. "After all, you're practically doing a good deed!"

"You're a monster." Eric whispered, echoing Noah's words, feeling more revolted by the second that he had accepted money from the man pointing a gun at him. Yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it; if he died, at least Sarah was safe.

"I am NOT a monster!" The Colonel screamed, jerking the gun. "My son's a _deviant_, and I'm going to correct that, and you're going to help me even if it kills you." With that, the calm exterior was back, and he was talking smoothly as if his outburst had never happened, like the calm surface of a lake hiding the chaos beneath the surface. "If you won't do it because of this gun, or because you want to reunite father and son," here, Winston chuckled, "then you'll do it for your daughter."

Once again, that numb fear swept over Eric's body, numbing him until even his rage felt icy. "What have you done with her?" He asked, keeping his gaze on the man's face and refusing to glance down at the gun that was slowly moving closer to him.

"Nothing, yet." The Colonel smiled, his tone as uncaring as if they were talking about the weather. "But I have friends, stationed outside the house. 1183 Redman Drive, am I correct?" Eric's sudden stillness was Winston's only answer, and that insane grin crept over his face just the slightest bit more.

"A red roof, picket fence, small dog in the yard. Quite the American dream house, isn't it?" He taunted, his grip never loosening on the gun, "until you look inside, to see the valuables, all sold to help pay for a sick girl's treatment. Damaged goods, shall we say? Hell, I don't know why you went through all of this to keep her alive."

Eric went from still to shaking, everything in him begging to _kill_ the man in front of him, kill him for even daring to talk about Sarah that way. The only thing holding him in check was the blind fear of what would happen if he rose to the bait, and his innocent girl was hurt as a result.

"But now, I need you to do me a favour." The Colonel stated, smiling that mad smile again, "I need you to play dead for me." Eric never got his chance to answer as a gun shot, masked by thunder and a silencer, rang through the air. For a split second, there was nothing. Then pain, overwhelming, blinding pain consumed him, originating from his stomach. He looked down in a numbed shock to see blood trickle, then gush from a hole in his side. _Not fatal… yet…_ he thought as he crumpled to his knees, hitting the pavement for the second time in minutes.

He wanted to scream, wanted to beg for help, but he couldn't force anything beyond a strangled moan, lost in the sounds of the storm. He tried to roll onto his side and cover the wound to stop the bleeding, but couldn't force the energy to move from his back.

Feeling something being set on his chest, light and small, Eric forced himself to listen. "Tell Noah Mayer to check that DVD." The Colonel stated cheerfully, patting Eric on the chest. "Oh, but you probably won't be alive to do that." A pause, then a voice whispered in his ear, "If it makes you feel any better, your _Sarah_ is fine." With that, the Colonel was gone, disappearing into the storm.

The world flickered, then faded into a blurry haze as Eric's eyes slid shut and his body let go. _Sarah's safe_, was the only thing floating through his mind as unconsciousness licked at his mind, claiming him.

.

.

**A quick note about Tony - I know a lot of you are probably thinking that he's ridiculously OOC right now, but this isn't the Tony that we had a brief glimpse of on the show. I gave him a backstory, and he's not exactly sane. So don't expect him to be thinking logically, or to make perfect sense. Just thought I'd point that out. All feedback is greatly appreciated!**


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – None, really, except don't kill Noah? And enjoy! :) **

**---**

Luke knocked on the wooden door frame before opening the door and stepping through, glancing back and shrugging at Noah when he realized the room was empty. "He's not here." Luke said, shutting the door and stepping back out into the hallway.

"Oh." Noah replied softly, his mind obviously a million miles away.

"That's okay though, I can talk to Eric about how he wants the foundation to handle Sarah's expenses later." Luke murmured, stepping closer to Noah. "By the way, Noah, I'm in love with Casey and I have a fetish for cross dressing."

"Mmm," was Noah's only answer, and Luke could practically _hear_ his boyfriend's mind working a thousand miles away.

"Noah?" Luke asked softly, nudging the brunette's shoulder, "are you even listening to me?" Noah finally seemed to clue in that Luke was talking, and he shook his head slightly, his eyes refocusing.

"Of course I am!" Noah defended weakly. "I heard everything."

"What was I saying then?" Luke asked innocently, barely able to keep the smirk off of his face.

"Well, you were, umm… I'm busted, aren't I?" Noah admitted, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

"Pretty much." Luke teased back, before sobering and asking, "What's on your mind?"

Like a candle being doused in a breeze, Noah's smile vanished. "It's nothing." He said shortly, unconvincingly. At Luke's disbelieving gaze, Noah corrected himself. "It's nothing important, anyway."

"Noah." Somehow, the one syllable carried more in it than an entire speech could've. Luke's chocolate brown eyes were wide, searching Noah's face for any hint of what was bothering him. _Well, besides the obvious._

"It's just…" Noah began, fidgeting his hands until Luke placed one of his own on top of Noah's, stilling him, "this doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" Luke asked gently, his thumb unconsciously stroking the back of Noah's hand. "Come on, talk to me."

"This thing with, with my dad," Noah kept his gaze on his shoes, avoiding Luke's gaze, "it's just… none of this is _like_ him."

"Like him, how?" Luke said, confusion creeping in his words. "Noah… we _know_ that he's doing this. You heard him, and Eric admitted it, too."

"I know that!" Noah yelled, very uncharacteristically. "I just don't _understand_ any of it. Why is he blackmailing Eric? How did he get the money to pay for Sarah's medical treatment? This isn't like him… all of this manipulating." Noah's voice sounded small and sad as he whispered, "I just don't understand."

Luke repressed the urge to pull Noah into his arms, knowing that words would be more effective than hugs, at this point anyways. "Noah," he said, not sure how to breach what he wanted to say, "you haven't seen your dad in years. He's changed, and he's probably getting the money from some army connection he has. He used to train Special Ops, right?"

"Yeah," Noah replied, looking utterly lost, "but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Maybe he saved someone's life, and they paid him back or something." Luke knew he was grasping at straws, but he had to give Noah something tangible to believe. "But the 'how' doesn't matter; what matters is making sure the police find him before he hurts someone else."

"You're right." Noah muttered, but there was something in his tone that sounded off to Luke. He didn't push it, though; not this time.

"Do you want to head home?" Luke asked, moving his hand from Noah's grasp so that their fingers were entwined. "We should let grandmother know what's going on."

"Sure." Noah replied, back to monosyllables. "But… can we not go through the front door? I don't want to deal with people right now."

"Umm, okay," Luke began, "but how are we going to get out?"

Noah tugged Luke's hand as an answer, pulling him down the hallway before answering. "There's a door here – remember? Eric let us leave through it the first time we came to the station."

"Oh, right." Luke replied. His memories of that meeting were still fuzzy, pain and despair wafting over them until it was all a blurry haze. He did, however, remember leaving through a side door at the end of the hallway, away from the prying eyes that had filled the station at the time.

"And it's… right here." Noah exclaimed, rounding a corner and seeing the door. "It's raining pretty badly out there." He remarked, glancing out the door's window before looking over at Luke. "It's going to be one hell of a storm." A rumble of thunder, followed shortly by a flash of lightening, accompanied Noah's words, and Luke realized that Noah was trying to lighten the mood, change the topic to something normal. For now, Luke decided not to fight him on it.

"Well, we better make a run for the car, then!" Luke's teasing tone fell a bit flat, but both men pretended not to notice. Pushing past Noah, Luke leaned over and pushed on the door, only to be met with resistance. "Weird." Luke commented, looking over his shoulder at Noah. "I think the door's locked."

"I think you're just too weak to open it up." Noah smiled, and the amusement in his voice didn't seem so forced. Memories of their post-kidnapping by Zac and Zoe stay in the hospital suddenly sprung to Luke's mind. _This is how he copes,_, Luke realized, _cracking jokes and trying to repress it._

"Fine, tough guy. You try." Luke said, stepping aside and nudging Noah forwards. "Let's see you try."

Noah pushed on the door, his eyebrows furrowing when the door didn't move. "I think it's jammed, or something…" he mumbled before pushing against it again. "Not budging." He finally proclaimed, minutes later, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. "Something's wedged in front of this door. I guess we should go through the front door."

"Or," Luke said, "we could try opening the other door." He tilted his head at the second door in the set, a light flush spreading on his face as he realized how stupid they had been. _We've got a lot on our minds._

"Or, we could do that." Noah sighed, obviously feeling as incompetent as Luke was. Noah pushed against the door, and it opened a crack. Shouldering it, he pushed hard and the door swung open, causing Noah to nearly fall out.

The sight of Noah falling through a doorframe had Luke giggling, and he stuck his head out into the cold, wet storm and asked, "Noah, you okay?" He was greeted with silence.

"Noah?" He said, jumping out of the building, only to feel something soft beneath his feet. "What the hell?" Looking down, he saw a thigh encased in denim. Working his gaze up the leg, he saw a chest, neck, and a ghostly white face with lips parted and eyes closed. "Oh my god, is that Eric?" Luke whispered, shock holding him still.

"Yeah, he's been shot." The words floated from below him, and Luke realized that Noah was kneeling by Eric's chest – and oh god, there was blood, blood everywhere. "Go get help, Luke!" Noah cried, the rain plastering his hair to his head. "Now!"

Luke tried to move, but he couldn't. It was as if shock had turned his muscles into lead, paralyzing him. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god…" He chanted, eyes fixed on Noah, who was tearing off his jacket and using it to press down on the bullet wound – probably to staunch the blood flow.

"Now, Luke!" Noah yelled over a crack of thunder. "Please, baby. Go get help." Maybe it was the pet name that cued Luke, but before Noah could blink Luke was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

Refocusing his attention in Eric, Noah bundled his jacket up and pressed it against the bullet hole in Eric's lower stomach. "Come on come on come on," he whispered, ignoring the stinging as rain pounded on him, turning his skin into ice, "you'll be fine, you're gonna be okay, come on come on come on."

Feeling helpless, Noah let his gaze travel up Eric's body, looking for anything that would help him. A small, square piece of white _something_ caught his eye, and Noah grabbed it off of Eric's chest. Using one hand to keep his makeshift compress on Eric, he blinked rapidly and tried to see exactly what he was holding.

One glance revealed to him that it was a DVD case, with block letter printing on the front. Using his forearm to push his dripping hair back, Noah rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and focused on the letters. When he read '**Noah Mayer**', he nearly dropped the case. Instead, he set it in between his knees and directed his attention on keeping Eric's wound from gushing blood, pushing the DVD to the back of his mind.

The door behind Noah opened, but the brunette didn't notice until there were hands on top of his, pressing on the compress, and a reassuring voice whispering in his ear, "It's okay, son; you've done your job, now let us do ours." Numbly, Noah let go, stood up and stepped back into the pouring rain, allowing the medical team to swarm Eric.

There was a frenzy of people surrounding Eric, and Noah could make out the occasional phrase as it was yelled over the storm. Within minutes, the paramedics had Eric strapped to a stretcher, and were loading him into an ambulance that had driven up by the door; funny, Noah hadn't noticed when it arrived.

The back doors to the ambulance were shut, and then it was off, sirens blaring. Noah turned to walk inside when he saw that white DVD case lying on the ground – he'd forgotten about it. Grabbing it, he tucked it halfway into his jeans, pulling his shirt overtop of what poked out Dimly, he realized that with his shirt being wet, the square shape might stand out, but he was too numb to care.

He didn't know how long he stood in the pouring rain, staring at the bloodstains on the pavement. After a long while, he felt warm arms wrap around him, and a low, soothing voice whispering in his ear. Leaning into the warmth that was wrapping around him, Noah allowed himself to be guided back into the station.

"Noah? Noah, are you okay? God, baby, you're like an icicle." That soothing voice murmured, before asking, "Can I get some blankets over here!" Within minutes, Noah felt a heavy blanket being wrapped around him, and absently noticed that he was freezing, his teeth chattering.

His hands came up to hold the blanket tighter to him, but he stopped when he saw dark red stains on his hands. _Blood… Eric's blood._ He stared at the crimson on his hands until the _need_ to wash it off became unbearable. "Bathroom." He croaked out between chattering teeth, not sure if Luke – and it had to be Luke, because who else would care for him like this? – would be able to understand him.

"Okay baby, let's just take you home first." Luke crooned in Noah's ear, tightening his grip around Noah. Noah shook his head, wanting to say that there was blood, there was blood _everywhere_ and he needed to get it off, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate.

Clipped phrases stood out against the blurred mumble of the station; Noah heard an officer say something about needing a statement, and Luke's reply was something he would never say in front of Emma – the thought almost made him smile. Almost.

Before he knew what was happening, he was being led out of the station, back into the raging storm. Part of him wanted to protest, to stay where it was warm and dry and safe, but the larger part of him trusted Luke, and knew that his boyfriend would do whatever was best for him. No rain touched him – an umbrella made sure of that, although a strong wind blew his wet hair off of his face, causing him to shiver.

The car ride home seemed to take absolutely no time while being the longest thing in the world. The car was steaming, as Luke had turned the seat heaters on as well as cranking the heat blown around the car, but Noah still found himself shivering; he wasn't sure if it was just because of the cold anymore. At one point, he tried to say something, but one look into Luke's brown eyes told him that nothing needed to be spoken.

Another blink, and he was in their apartment, being led to the bedroom, their bedroom. Luke let go of him, and Noah found himself instantly missing his warmth, his smell, his touch. Pulling the blanket tightly around him in a weak compensation, Noah immediately headed to the adjoining bathroom, needing to scrub the blood off of his hands – now.

"Noah?" Luke asked, his voice radiating concern.

"Shower." Noah mumbled over his shoulder, resting one hand on the doorknob as he waited for Luke's answer.

"Oh, okay," Luke replied, "do you want me to come with you?"

"I'm fine." Noah said shortly, summoning up the ghost of a smile while Luke looked on, concerned. "Seriously, it's okay. I just… I need to get _this_ off of me, okay?" Noah hoped Luke understood, because he didn't wait for a response; he shut the bathroom door, numbly stripped his clothes, turned the water dial up until it was scalding hot, and scrubbed at his skin until every hint of blood was gone.

Twenty minutes later, Noah stepped out of the shower and found a white, fluffy towel along with a spare set of clothes lying on the counter. Smiling to himself at Luke's thoughtfulness, Noah scrubbed his hair before getting changed, feeling a lot more calmer than he had been. He reluctantly bent down to pick up his blood soaked clothes, nearly dropping them as he noticed the DVD case. _I'd forgotten about that._

He set it on the counter while he haphazardly pulled on the sweatpants, large t-shirt and even larger hoodie Luke had brought him. He stuffed the DVD into the hoodie's oversized pockets, hoping that Luke wouldn't notice. He knew that he shouldn't be keeping secrets from Luke _again_, but he had to. Noah knew that whatever was on the DVD couldn't be good, and he refused to put Luke through anymore hurt.

Speaking of Luke… Noah cracked the bathroom door opening and peeked through it, looking for the blonde. He was surprised that Luke hadn't come rushing into the bathroom already. "Luke?" He called out, stepping into the bedroom. "Luke? You there… oh." The room was empty, but there was a piece of paper attached to the bedroom door, almost directly across from where Noah was standing.

Walking across the room, Noah picked up the paper and realized it was a note, from Luke. Sitting down on the bed, he read:

_Noah,___

_Faith called from the farm; she's really upset, and I don't know what's going on. I'll be back as soon as I can, but this might take a while. I haven't heard Faith like this in a long time, and I need to go check up on her. I hate leaving you baby, but I had to. I'm so, so sorry. Call me as soon as you read this, please!___

_I LOVE YOU!___

_- Luke_

Noah smiled to himself before walking over to his socks drawer and pulling out a small, chestnut box. Pausing briefly to admire the richness of the wood, the intricate designs inlaid on it, Noah opened the lid and slid the note inside, allowing it to join other notes and trinkets Luke had given him in their time together. Every single one was precious, and although Luke teased him about his 'collection', Noah knew his boyfriend was secretly thrilled by it.

Tucking the box back in the drawer, Noah pulled the DVD out of his sweatshirt's pocket and slowly opened the case. The DVD itself was white and without a word printed on it. Starting up the TV that was in the bedroom, Noah popped the DVD into the DVD player and sat back on the bed, unconsciously grabbing a pillow and hugging it tight to his chest.

The TV screen flickered before turning on, and the face Noah wanted to see least in the world was suddenly only feet from him. He recoiled on instinct, silently backing up until his back was flush against the headboard, terrified about what he was about to hear, yet not making a sound in case he missed a word.

Ten minutes later, Noah wordlessly hit paused on the remote, freezing the screen. His mind was numb, his fingers shaking as he turned the TV off and scrawled out a hasty note to Luke, telling him that something came up at Java and he wouldn't be back for a bit. He set the note carefully on the bed before changing into jeans and a t-shirt; he didn't want to deal with what he knew was coming in sweatpants. _You're stalling,_ he thought to himself as he meticulously folded the clothes he'd been wearing.

Taking a slow and deep breath, Noah grabbed Luke's pillow and inhaled deeply, trying to capture the unique smell of his lover. A single tear dropped onto the pillow, but he scrubbed at his eyes furiously. _I don't have time to be weak – I can't be. Oh god…_

Noah wrenched open the door, almost screaming when he realized that someone was already there. "Damian?" He asked, wondering what the hell the other man was doing at his apartment. "Luke's not here."

"Oh," Damian said simply, scrutinizing Noah, who flinched under his gaze, "how are you, son?"

"Don't call me that." Noah snapped, the words too reminiscent of his father's brutal greetings. "Wait, how did you get here, in my home? Wait, I don't have time for this. Get out, now. I've got to go."

"What's the rush, Noah?" Damian asked, eyeing Noah again. "Can't you talk to me for a few minutes?"

"No, I can't!" Noah yelled, edging past Damian and slamming the door to the bedroom shut. "Get the hell out before I make you!" Something in Noah's tone must have warned Damian, because he silently followed the brunette out of the apartment.

"What's going on, Noah?" Damian asked again, infuriating Noah. "Talk to me."

"I can't!" Noah screamed, well aware that he was loosing it but helpless to stop himself. "I've got to go, _now_, or else… or else…" He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

A sudden clarity entered Damian's eyes, and he took the smallest of steps towards Noah. "You're going to meet him." As if someone had stuck Noah's finger in an electrical socket, Noah's entire body jerked, his gaze flying to meet Damian's.

"Meet… you know?" He whispered, eyes darting everywhere from Damian's hair to his shoes. "How… how do you know?"

"That doesn't matter," Damian said quickly, his accent growing thicker, "what does matter is that you don't do this, Noah. Please, don't."

"I have to." Noah replied grimly, staring into those blue eyes. "I can't let someone else be hurt because of me. Not again."

Damian looked as if he was about to argue, but instead he swallowed heavily before saying, "I can take you to him." The words hung in the air, potent yet dangerous, a double edged sword. Noah wish he could've been shocked, but the truth had been there from the moment he saw Damian. The manipulating, the money... it all made_sense_.

"Why should I trust you?" Noah asked, warily looking at Damian. "How do I know that this isn't a trap?"

"Because, I would never hurt Luciano, and hurting you would, by default, hurt him." Damian said simply, his voice showing nothing but truth. "And I can protect you."

Noah thought back to the million horror movies he'd seen, when the victim trusts the killer. He knew it was wrong, but that sheer desperation to make this _right_ was all he could focus on, and he knew that his own health came at a second. Besides, he knew that Damian wouldn't kill him; no, the Colonel most definitely wanted him alive.

"Fine," Noah said, trying to push back the blinding panic consuming his body, "let's go."

---

**Any feedback is extremely appreciated!**


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

***Notes – Sorry for the delay, and thank you so much to everyone that's been reviewing!**

**.**

**.**

Luke found himself swerving through late night traffic, his fingers tapping an anxious beat on the wheel as he thought back to his meeting with Faith. Although he was glad that it had been nothing serious – he'd driven himself crazy imagining what could've happened on the drive to the farm – it still broke his heart to know that his little sister, who wasn't even that little anymore, had to call him at nine in the evening because she had no one to talk to after a brutal nightmare.

"_It was awful, Luke," She sobbed into his shoulder, clutching him like a child would hold onto their favourite teddy bear, "I could hear him screaming, and I-I…" Sobs cut off her words, and Luke had simply held his sister while blinking away the tears in his eyes. With all of the mess going on with the investigation, Luke hadn't been letting himself_ focus _on the reason for the mess – Ethan. Part of him felt beyond guilty for leaving his family, letting them cope on their own.___

_"Faith?" Luke asked, his voice steady and soothing, "Why didn't you ask for mom or dad? Don't get me wrong," He said when Faith stiffened in his arms, "I'm so glad you called me. But is something wrong with our parents?"___

_"No." She said simply, her dark eyes focused on his, "I just… I don't want to burden them." The words caused tears to cascade down her face again, and what answer could Luke have to that? He held her until she calmed down, then made some of his 'secret recipe hot chocolate.' Although Faith scoffed at the childishness of it, Luke knew that part of her wanted to be coddled, wanted to be treated like his baby sister.___

_The banging of pots and pans in an effort to find the coffee mugs had brought Holden and Lily downstairs, and Luke convinced Faith to tell them what was going on. "You're never a burden to them Faith, because they love you." He reassured, smiling slightly as he remembered echoing those words thousands of times to Noah._

Noah. The name echoed through his head, and he pressed down on the gas peddle a little bit harder, desperate to get home. The windshield wipers were beating back and forth furiously, fighting a loosing battle to the rain that was pouring down. The sky was dark, and Luke knew it would be a miracle if he got home in one piece; he was definitely breaking more than a couple speeding laws.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself outside of his apartment door, fishing through his jacket pocket for his spare key. His had gone missing from his bag at home sometime last week; Luke figured he'd stashed it somewhere in the farm and forgotten where. Making a mental note to ask Holden if he'd seen it, Luke opened the door to the apartment.

"Noah?" He called out, frowning when there was no response. "Noah?" Luke said again, walking to the bedroom. Noah's truck was in the parking lot, so Luke knew that he had to be around somewhere. _Maybe he's sleeping._ Luke discarded the thought as soon as it came to mind. Noah would've woken up the second the door opened; he was an extremely light sleeper. And there was virtually no chance that his boyfriend had taken a sleeping pill – the brunette would only take them if he absolutely had to, saying that he hated how unaware and groggy they made him.

Luke's frown deepened when he walked into the bedroom and saw the rumpled covers, television remotes strung across the bed, and bloodied clothes lying in the bathroom, visible through the open door. Yet another habit of Noah's that Luke always found so endearingly annoying was his almost painfully perfect tidiness. Noah would insist on making their bed everyday before leaving the house, even if it was just to go the store for a milk run. A flicker of a smile came across Luke's face as he remembered the endless teasing he'd subjected Noah to.

The smile faded as Luke realized that Noah had changed out of the sweatpants and t-shirt Luke had put out for him, choosing to wear his own clothes if the open, rifled-through drawer and pile of clothes by the bed had anything to say. Luke's first instinct was to say that Noah had run away from his feelings, but he knew better then that now. After the kidnapping mess with Zac and Zoe, Luke had promised himself to trust in his boyfriend, and use logic before emotions. He still struggled when his insecurities reared their ugly heads, but he was getting better… slowly but surely.

"Now," Luke muttered to himself as he looked about the room, "Noah, Noah, Noah, you would've left me a note… ha! There it is." Walking over to the table, Luke snatched a small piece of paper off of it and read the note carefully.

_Luke___

_Something came up. I'll be back. I'm not sure when.___

_I love you so much,___

_Noah._

After scanning the paper countless times, Luke knew something was wrong. Noah's usually impeccable printing was messy, as if he'd scrawled it, and after studying the scratched out writing for nearly half a minute, Luke made out 'don't worry, I'll be fine.' _Why would I worry if nothing's going on?_

Folding the note and placing it in his pant pocket for further inspection, Luke scrutinized the room slowly, looking for anything that could hint at where Noah was gone. A careful look at the TV revealed that the DVD player was on, and the remote had been used; it was lying on top of the bedding.

"Wonder what he was watching?" Luke mumbled to himself as he grabbed the remote and casually flicked the TV on. Without warning, the Colonel's face flashed onto the TV screen, causing Luke to jump in shock. He scooted to the back of the headboard, unaware that he was copying his boyfriend's actions from just hours ago.

Winston's face was frozen, a malicious smirk fixed on those thin, pale lips. Luke waited for a moment, waited for his heart to stop trying to pound through his chest, before swallowing heavily and pressing play.

"And I'll see you there, son." Winston said, his voice sounding close enough to cause Luke to instinctively recoil. The screen went blank, and Luke stared in shock before realizing that he'd reached the end of the DVD.

He skipped through scenes mindlessly, rewinding to the beginning, all the while wondering where Noah had gotten the disc. _Did Winston drop it off here? No, that doesn't make sense. Oh god, Noah…_ The full impact of what was going on smashed into Luke, and he found himself grabbing his phone and speed dialling Noah's number, his hand shaking as he held the phone to his ear.

The phone rang and rang, until Noah's cheery voicemail greeted him. Luke groaned before shoving the phone back into his pocket and realizing that the DVD was ready to be played. Shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, Luke found himself hitting the play button once again.

A close up of the Colonel's face appeared on the TV screen once again, and even though Luke was prepared for it, he couldn't help the strangled gasp that rose from his throat. He forced himself to take a deep breath and focus, turning his attention back to the TV.

There was a rattling sound, and the image of Winston jerked as if someone was adjusting the camera. Moments later, the camera stilled, and the Colonel inhaled a deep breath that resonated in Luke's head like a gong.

"Hello, Noah… son." Winston said. Luke instinctively looked at the door before realizing that Winston had assumed that Noah wouldn't have told Luke about the DVD, and thought he was speaking to his son alone. _And he was right._ A white hot flash of betrayal swept through Luke's body, and he forced himself to push it away. Luke knew Noah better than anyone, and he knew his stupid, gullible, idiot of a boyfriend was probably just trying to protect him; that didn't mean that he wasn't going to be in the doghouse when he came back. _He has to come back…_

"By now you know that I'm not dead. I'm sorry to have deceived you son, but it was necessary: for me, for you, for us. The fanatical glimmer in Winston's eyes was apparent even through the TV screen, and Luke found himself wrapping his arms around his legs, knees tucked tight to his chest.

The Winston from the DVD continued to talk, and Luke refocused his attention just in time to catch the last half of the man's next sentence. "… also necessary for you to come join me, to come with me so we can be a family, a proper family." Every cell in Luke's body went on red alert, and his breath escaped his body like he was punched in the gut. _Noah, Noah no… you didn't believe this, did you?_

"But that boy, that _deviant_, he's given you the wrong idea of _family_." Winston spat out the words 'deviant' and 'family', making them sound one of the same. "They've wrecked their son, destroyed him, and I won't let them do the same to you!" The last words were yelled, and spittle flew from Winston's lips to the camera lens, leaving specks of saliva behind. "You _will_ come back to me, boy, and I'll make a Mayer out of you – even if it kills me."

A relieved laugh bubbled its way out of Luke's throat as he realized that Noah was fine – he had to be. _He'd never fall for this._

Luke's hopes were crushed into a thousand tiny pieces when the Colonel smirked and continued. "Just in case you don't know what's best for you, I've taken matters into my own hands. You say you care for that Snyder boy, don't you?" The question sent raw fear prickling up Luke's spine, and the room's temperature seemed to plummet until he was shivering, shaking.

"Leave me out of this." Luke whispered to himself as the on screen Winston paused dramatically, a weak yet successful attempt to increase the sick suspense. "No," he corrected himself, "leave _us_ out of this. Noah…" Luke's voice trailed off until it was nothing but a whisper in the air.

"If you don't come to me within four hours of seeing this video, I'll have him killed. No, not killed," Winston added suddenly, a twisted glee entering his eyes, "I'll have him tortured, then killed. Sinners and converters like him deserve it." The raw belief in Winston's eyes was disgusting, and Luke felt bile rising in the back of his throat. He swallowed it back, his breath coming in shuddering gasps.

"Don't believe that I can do it?" Winston asked, a hint of a mocking laugh in his voice. "Don't think I'd follow through? Trust me son, nothing would make me happier then to rid the world of that pervert." Once again, a sour taste rose to Luke's mouth, accompanied with an unreal pang of horror that his death was being talked about, so casually.

A change in Winston's tone caused Luke to reluctantly raise his head, yet another sense of foreboding filling his body. The Colonel sounded as if he was reading off of a piece of paper as he said, "August 22nd. You left your apartment at 9:00AM. You went to Java for ten minutes, and picked up two coffees. You spent half an hour at your apartment before leaving with _that boy_ to go to that farm. You spent seven hours at the farm. You spent an hour at a pond on the property, then you went into the house for the night. You left the next morning at 7:00AM."

Luke stopped moving, stopped breathing – just stared at the TV screen. He knew his thoughts should've been chaotic, but instead there were four words repeating themselves, over and over again; _he was following us, he was following us, he was following us…_

Luke vaguely heard Winston describe the clothes they'd worn, the places they'd been, all with a smug, triumphant look on his face. When he issued a threat against Faith and Nat – _how does he know their names?_ – Luke hurled the remote against the wall, vaguely registering the dull thud that echoed through the room, and the rather large dent left behind.

Even though Luke's world was crashing around him, the TV continued to blare, and Winston continued to taunt him. "Don't even think about going to the police, Noah." Winston stated, that same smug grin on his face – Luke wanted to wipe it off himself. "They won't help you, and by the time you arrive at the station, _Snyder_ will be gone. Snatched right from his apartment." Winston proceeded to rattle off the addresses of the farm, the apartment, and Lily's house, Luke growing paler with each word. "I'll be able to find him, no matter what you do. So unless you come to me, he's going to die."

Luke pressed pause, a trembling hand clapping over his open mouth. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god…" he found himself chanting, his fear for himself ranking lower than his fear for Noah. "You went to him, Noah no… no no no."

Luke didn't know how long he sat, staring at the frozen image of the Colonel before he summoned his courage and pressed play again, terrified as to what he was going to hear. Each new sentence from the gray-haired man caused a hitched breath, but Luke slowly realized that the threatening was over. Instead, Winston was giving Noah directions on where to meet him.

He rattled off an address – somewhere just outside of Oakdale, Luke realized – then said, "Don't think of bringing anyone else. I'll be able to see them, and I'll be gone before you know what's happening. It won't be that bad," Winston said suddenly, a demonic smile on his lips, "in fact, you might just have fun. Four hours, Noah… and I'll see you there, son." There was a click, then the screen went blank. _It's over._

On legs as shaky as a newborn colts, Luke stepped off the bed and manually turned off the TV before running a shaky hand through his hair. The surreal quality of the past half an hour was slowly fading, and a desperation to find Noah, to save him, rushed over Luke until he was hardly aware that his hand was on the door knob to leave the apartment.

He _needed_ to find Noah, but that need was warring with his instinct to protect the rest of his family. _'Faith and Nat, mom, dad… they don't know. What if the Colonel goes after them?'_ The thought was an ugly one, and the idea of Winston anywhere _near_ his baby sisters set fire to Luke's veins. The thought was plausible though, and Luke punched the door as he tried to figure out what to do.

He couldn't tell his dad, he knew that; Holden wouldn't let him find Noah, and would insist on calling the police. His second instinct was to tell Jack and let him arrange police protection, but he knew that Jack would feel obligated to tell his dad, and wouldn't let him go. He needed someone who would let the police know what was going on, without stopping him from saving Noah.

An answer dawned on him, so obvious that he couldn't believe it had taken him so long to figure it out. Grabbing his phone, Luke dialled the police station and waited impatiently until someone picked up, three rings later.

"This is the Oakdale Police Department, how may I help you?" A feminine voice said, official yet kind.

"Hello, I need to talk to Officer Dallas Griffin." Luke said, hoping his voice didn't waver. "Can you connect me to him?"

"Just one second," the receptionist said, "may I ask who's calling?"

"Tell him it's about Noah Mayer." Luke said simply, his fingers drumming impatiently on the table.

"Just one second," she repeated, muffling the phone with what Luke assumed was the palm of her hand. Moments ticked by, and Luke realized he'd been put on hold. He was about to slam down the phone and go to the station himself when he heard Dallas say, "Hello? Noah?"

"Dallas, it's Luke." Luke said, his words tripping over themselves in their attempt to get out. "Look, I know about what you and Noah were doing, I know about all of it. And Noah…" Luke took a deep breath, trying not to choke over the words, "Noah's father was behind it."

"Colonel Mayer?" Dallas asked, his voice reflecting his shock. "How? I mean…"

"I don't have time." Luke said simply, hoping that he didn't sound too rude, but too far gone to truly care. "He's gone to see his father, and he's in danger, Dallas. I have to go find him, or he's going to kill Noah." Luke knew he was stretching the truth, but he just. Didn't. Care. Noah was in danger, his sweet, perfect Noah, and he was going to do whatever it took to get him back.

"What do you need?" Dallas asked simply, obviously ready to do whatever Luke said. "Tell me, and I'll make it happen."

Luke took yet another deep breath before explaining to Dallas what he needed. "Send a patrol car out to the farm," he said, hurrying to continue, "and tell my family you received an anonymous threat against them. The Colonel… he threatened them, and I can't have anything happening to my family." Luke stressed, his voice breaking ever-so-slightly. "If they – when they ask about me, tell them that I'm fine. Make up a lie, I don't care."

"Are you going to be fine?" Dallas questioned, not contracting Luke's orders. The part of Luke that wasn't in a full blown panic attack over what was going on felt his respect for Dallas skyrocket at his ability to listen to a civilian, and to trust him, trust Luke.

"I'll be fine." Luke said grimly, fully aware that he could be lying through his teeth. "I'm going to go save Noah."

"Luke…" Dallas said hesitantly, "let me come with you. I can help you, I can…"

"No!" Luke yelled violently, before apologizing. "Sorry, it's just that… he'll know if you're there, and I can't afford anything happening to Noah. He's my life, Dallas," Luke said simply, blinking past the tears blurring his vision, "and I'll do whatever it takes to get him back."

"Understood." Dallas replied, his voice low. "Do you need, a weapon or anything? I can supply you with one."

"Isn't that illegal?" Luke asked, confused.

"It's illegal as hell, Luke," Dallas said, a small tone of amusement in his otherwise worried voice, "but I'll risk it to have you both come back safe. So, you do you need a gun?"

"No." Luke answered, "my aim's not accurate enough for it to make a difference. Besides, I can't risk having him search me, and find it, and take it out on Noah." Luke choked out Noah's name, the one word bringing more emotions to him than he knew possible – fear, love, fear, worry, fear…

"Fine." Dallas said shortly, his clipped tones an obvious attempt at being calm, "be careful, Luke. Don't make me regret this."

"I won't," Luke swore, "Noah will come back." Luke didn't add that he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to say the same thing about himself. He knew that the only thing Winston wanted more than his son back was Luke dead, and Luke was willing to exploit that as far as he needed to.

_Anything's worth having Noah safe._ Grabbing an umbrella to shield off the rain, Luke left the apartment, climbed into his car, and started driving to the address Winston had left, knowing that things were going to end – for better of for worse.


	23. Chapter TwentyTwo

**Hope you enjoy, and thank you so so much to everyone that's been following along and reviewing!**

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Noah's eyes were fixed on the digital clock on the dashboard, watching as the minutes ticked by. Time seemed to slowed down and sped up simultaneously, pulling him in opposite directions. _10:05_. Noah blinked once, deliberately, adding another minute to the tally he was keeping in his head. _Five minutes since we left._

He was sitting in the passenger's seat of Damian's sports car, watching him drive the car at a ridiculous speed. A small part of him marvelled at the sheer flawlessness of the car, and at how ludicrously expensive it must've been, but the rest of him was trying not to think, not to think about _anything_ – definitely not about what he was about to do.

Damian cleared his throat, and Noah instinctively looked over at him. The interior of the car was dark, and Noah could just make out the shadowy figure of the other man, and a head turned slightly towards him. A silence lingered, and Noah could swear he heard Damian exhale slowly before looking back at the road.

Any idea Noah had of finishing the drive in a blissful numbess vanished into smoke, and he found himself clasping his hands together before saying, "Damian?" The name came out as more of a question then Noah had aimed for.

The silence almost seemed to thicken, somehow, pressing into Noah's lungs and causing his breathing to quicken. He was about to say something else when Damian cleared his throat again and replied, "Yes?"

Noah leaned back against the leather seat, trying to organize his thoughts. He hadn't been actually expecting Damian to reply, and now that he had, Noah had no idea what to say. Questions fought for dominance in his head, and although Noah knew that he should be asking where they were going, he chose otherwise; asking about the address the Colonel had left them wouldn't change his outcome. Besides, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know just yet.

"You're working for my father." The question wasn't a question – not truly. They both knew it as a truth, a fact, and the wince it provoked from Damian, visible even in the darkness of the car, simply cemented that fact. 'Why?" Noah asked, not sure if he even wanted to hear the answer. "Was it to do with Luke… and me? Are you trying to punish Luke, for being who he is?"

"No!" Damian yelled before Noah had even finished his question. "Of course not!" One hand came off of the steering wheel, running through gelled hair with little success, before Damian continued. "I love my son, gay or straight, and I would never do anything to hurt him."

"But killing his brother, that's fine, right?" Noah asked, feeling the stirrings of anger cracking through his numb shell. "Since Ethan wasn't your son, to hell with him! To hell with the Snyder's, to hell with _me_; we aren't Grimaldi's, so what do we matter?"

The car jerked, as if Damian slammed on the brakes, and Noah was thrown forward in his seat. The seatbelt dug into his chest for a brief second, and then the car was driving at its previous speed, everything back to normal.

"I love my son," Damian repeated, stressing every syllable. "I love him, and I would never hurt him _or_ his family. And how can you say that I would ever hurt a child?" Damian sounded repulsed by the very idea, but Noah refused to let that have sway over him; Dallas had described Damian's past of manipulating and acting all too clearly.

"Then explain it to me," Noah said simply, hoping his tone was as ironclad as he believed it to be. "Make me understand why you were working for my father, why you let Ethan die, why you would pay for him to hire his thugs. Was he blackmailing you?" The idea of blackmail had been floating around in his head, and a small part of Noah hoped it was the truth. Although it wouldn't excuse what Damian had done – not for a second – it would mean that Damian's actions hadn't been completely on his free will.

"No." The one word crushed any hopes Noah had, and he found his eyes focusing on the clock again. _10:10._

"Then why?" Noah asked, his tone hard. "Explain it to me."

"I don't have to explain what I do to you," Damian said, his arrogant tone failing to hide the pain and regret in his words. "All that matters is that I'm going to help you now, in any way I can."

"If you want to help me, then help me to understand," Noah urged, trying to soften his voice. "Don't let me meet my father in the dark. Don't let him hold this knowledge over my head. Don't let me die," Noah hoped that Damian didn't notice how voice cracked, "without knowing why all of this happened."

"You're not going to die!" Damian yelled, his voice more impassioned then Noah had expected. "Hell, I shouldn't be doing this, I shouldn't be taking you to Winston. But you're his son – he won't hurt you, right?"

The strangled laugh that forced its way out of Noah's throat must've been answer enough, because the car slowed down on the empty road. "Noah, you don't have to do this," Damian urged. "You don't have to go to him like a martyr. I have contacts, people who can be here within hours. We can trap him, and he'll be thrown in jail."

The idea was tempting, and Noah wanted nothing more than to agree. But he knew that if there was the slightest chance that the Colonel could escape from Damian's 'help', then nothing would stop him from trying to hurt Luke, and that was a risk that Noah simply wasn't willing to take. Nevertheless, Damian's words hung in the air, tantalizing and tempting.

"No." Noah choked out, before he could loose his nerve. "I can't… I can't take that risk." Absentmindedly, Noah realized that Damian had successfully turned the conversation away from himself, but he couldn't find the strength to care.

"There will be no risk, Noah!" Damian said as the car slowed down just a little bit more. "I can make sure that Winston is caught, and put away for a very long time."

Noah was about to argue, but he realized that Damian would never understand, unless he put it into terms that Damian could identify with. "What do you love, more than anything?" Noah asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"I love my son, and the mother of my child," Damian replied almost instantaneously. "|'d protect Luke or _cara_ in a heartbeat, no matter the cost." And even though Noah had no idea how Damian had been involved with Ethan's death, he believed him.

"I love Luke, Damian. More than I could ever explain to you, and more than I could ever expect you to understand." The words were simple, and Noah forged on. "I know that the only thing that will keep my father away from him is if he has me. I can't take the risk that he'll escape, and find Luke, and…" Tears sprung to Noah's eyes, and he hastily blinked them away, even though he knew Damian couldn't see. "I have to do this – I have to keep Luke safe. Can you understand that?"

Another lengthy silence passed, interrupted only by the purr of the car's engine. The pause had grown so long that Noah almost didn't pay attention when Damian finally spoke. "Yes," he said simply. "I understand." Without another word, Damian took a sharp left and continued driving.

Noah was still for a moment before he looked out the window. "Wait!" he said, his voice echoing around in the truck. "We're nowhere near the address that my fath- the Colonel gave to me."

"I know," Damian replied steadily. "That was where he wanted you to go; it's not where he is."

"What do you mean?" Noah asked, utterly confused. "Why would he tell me to go somewhere if he's not there?"

"The address that he gave you, it leads to an empty, abandoned lot in the middle of nowhere," Damian explained as he watched the road. "It was a test, to see if you'd brought anyone with you. He has people waiting there that would've let him know if you were alone."

Noah was still as he processed the information, but found that something in it didn't ring true to him. "My father… he was arrogant." Even now, it felt like a betrayal to say those words, to insult the man that Noah had feared, did fear. "He wouldn't think I'd go against his wishes, especially considering who he's threatening. Why would he do this?"

Damian took another right before he answered. "Noah, he's not… he's not sane." Noah's derisive snort caused Damian to correct himself. "I mean, he's less sane then he was before. He's been on the run for over a year, right?"

"Longer." Noah replied automatically, counting back to the months that Winston had been presumed dead.

"It changed him. He's paranoid about everything. Paranoia is fine, but I didn't recognize his madness until it was too late." Remorse was mixed in with Damian's accent, and Noah realized that now was the time to ask questions, while Damian was feeling guilty enough to answer them.

"Damian, tell me what happened between you and my father," Noah said, before reluctantly adding, "Please. I need… I need to know, so I can understand."

"None of it was supposed to happen like this," Damian murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself. Noah was surprised that he hadn't put up more of a fight, but realized that maybe Damian needed to explain himself as badly as Noah needed to hear the explanation. He waited silently for Damian to continue, his breathing quick and shallow.

"I've been in Oakdale for months," Damian stated, causing Noah to jerk his head the slightest bit in a surprised response. "No one knew that I was here, and I intended to keep it that way. I just wanted to see my son, my _cara_, and make sure they were alright; that they were happy. Can you understand that?" Damian asked, just the slightest hint of desperation in his normally polished voice.

"Yes," Noah replied, not sure if it was honesty or his own need for answers that led to his response. Either way, Damian seemed to buy it.

"I knew I'd have to leave soon, but I didn't want to." Damian's words should've sounded petulant, but instead he sounded honest, weary even. "I was looking for a reason to stay, to make my presence known to my family, when you're father contacted me." Noah had to remind himself to breathe, and to stay quiet; he literally had to choke back questions.

"He told me that he could help me," Damian said vaguely before falling silent.

Noah waited expectantly for him to continue; when he didn't, Noah cleared his throat before asking, "Help you with what?"

"He said that he could help me convince Luke to come to Malta with me," Damian clarified. "Of course, I had a preliminary background check run on him. An army colonel who'd received a purple heart and had been discharged honourably. The detailed checks took longer to run, and I didn't receive them until it was too late. I believe he had contacts that temporarily buried his record."

"What was his plan?" Noah asked calmly, ignoring Damian's last statement and feeling as if his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest.

"He told me that he wanted to talk to you, but it had to be done in secret since no one could know he was alive. His request was for money, to pay his informants." The glow of the GPS system on the front of the car provided just enough light for Noah to see Damian shrug a shoulder. "Grimaldi Shipping's has been doing exceedingly well, and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to see if this man could help me."

"What happened?" Noah whispered, afraid of the answer. "What did my father do?"

"Nothing, at first," Damian said. "Actually, I thought I'd been manipulated. I was debating whether to leave Oakdale or make my presence known when Winston contacted me again, and said that he could bring Luke to me."

"Bring Luke to you, as in…" Noah swallowed heavily, unable to even finish his sentence; unable to contemplate what that would mean.

"No!" He said sharply, sounding offended. "Winston told me he would bring Luke to me, so I could talk to him. Convince him to come back to Malta with me."

"Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait." Noah held up a hand in reaction to his thoughts. "You thought that Luke would go with you to Malta, _willingly?_ Damian, are you honestly that stupid?" Noah tried to repress the pang of longing that went through him as he thought of Luke – his Luke, with his warm eyes, soft hair, and even softer touch...

"He'd be happy in Malta." Damian insisted, ignoring Noah's barb. "He'd be a Grimaldi there, and he'd be respected. He would've just had to give it a chance!"

The incredulity of what Damian was saying didn't truly register in Noah's mind. He refused to let it register, because he thought the shock of it, the _stupidity_ of it, might just kill him. "So, you get Kevin to pick him up after he's been doped up. Why would you drug him if he was supposed to deliver Luke to you, unharmed?" Noah couldn't help the bite that was in his last few words, but Damian didn't pick up on it.

"I didn't know about the drugging until after it occurred," Damian replied. "Winston had asked me for a friend of Luke's that would be talked into this. The only friend of Luke's I knew from my stay here years ago was Kevin. Winston told me that Kevin was drugged so he wouldn't remember what had happened. I think the dosage was incorrect, and caused him to hallucinate instead of giving him short-term amnesia." The casual way Damian talked about Kevin made Noah shudder.

"So the accident was just that, then. An accident." The words felt foreign on his tongue after all of the time spent chasing leads, trying to discover why it _wasn't_ just an 'accident'. Damian nodded, and Noah was about to let the subject drop when a thought struck him. "What were you going to do about Ethan, when Luke was 'brought to you'?" Noah asked.

"Ethan wasn't supposed to be there, either." Damian stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I had no idea he would be there, but I never would have harmed him. Ever. And not just because he's Luke's brother," he added. "He's a child, and no child deserves to have their life ended so cruelly."

Noah's ragged breath was audible, embarrassingly loud, but Damian pretended not to notice. "So," Noah asked once his emotions were under control, "you had no intention of hurting Ethan, or Luke." Noah knew what the answer would be, but he still had to ask, to be sure.

"Never," Damian responded simply, "and I never would've agreed to any of Winston's plots if I'd known the repercussions of them." To Noah, it seemed as if Damian was trying to convince himself that he was innocent simply because he hadn't understood.

Choking back a biting response, Noah was about to ask how far away they were from their destination when another thought jumped into his mind. "What about Tony?"

"Tony… Tony who?" Damian asked, utterly perplexed. "Do you mean Anthony?"

"Yes, Anthony, Tony, whatever you want to call him." Noah said impatiently. "Were you involved with what he did?" Noah had expected the answer to be no; the guilty silence that radiated from Damian shocked him for the countless time that day. "You… you were involved with him?" Another thought came to mind, and Noah flexed and curled his fingers in an attempt to stay calm. "Did you shoot Eric, too?"

"What? No!" Damian defended, "Wait, Eric was shot? As in the Constable that Winston was bribing?"

"Yes. He might be dead, for all we know," Noah stated grimly, realizing that he had no idea whether Eric was dead or alive. Although they weren't on the best of terms, Noah didn't want the other man to _die_, especially considering that he would be leaving a little girl behind. Shaking his head to focus his thoughts, Noah asked, "What about Tony? What did you do to him?"

"I talked to him," Damian responded. "That's all. Winston informed me that in order for Luke to be brought to me, Luke's car would need to break down. I wasn't able to tamper with it, because it was always parked at OU, and I wouldn't fit in there. I did some background checking, and I found Tony. He was perfect – he was in some club with Luke, he had a background in mechanics, and I decided to talk to him."

"And?" Noah asked, "What did you learn?"

"He was crazy," Damian said honestly, the car slowing as it drove down a road covered by trees. "It didn't take long to convince him to help me." There was no regret in Damian's tone, no words to show sympathy at how messed up Tony had been, and still was.

"You _manipulated_ him to the point that he had a mental breakdown." Noah spat out, a small part of him mourning for his friend, now lost in his own consciousness. "Do you not regret that?"

Once again, silence was Noah's only answer. He was about to say something else when the car slowed, then came to a dead stop. Confusion only lasted for a few seconds before reality set in; they were _here_, and he was about to see his father.

"This is as far as I can take you," Damian said, his voice seeming too loud, too stiff. "Follow the road for another few minutes, and you'll see a house. It'll be old, abandoned, but don't let that fool you; I have no idea how many men Winston brought with him."

"He'll be alone," Noah said, not sure how he knew that the fact was the truth, but knowing that it was anyways. "He wouldn't want anyone else to… witness, this. He sees me as a shame; he'll be alone. At least until he does whatever he wants to me." _Unless he's changed_, a small voice whispered in his head, _unless you don't know him that well anymore._

Damian killed the engine, and the air around Noah was plunged into silence. Damian clicked on the overhead light, and Noah blinked against the harshness of it. Blue eyes were looking into his, and Noah found himself struck by the physical similarities between Luke and Damian. _But that's all it is – physical. Luke…_

Damian was saying something, Noah noted absently. His ears felt like they had been filled with cotton, and a tingling panic was beginning to spread across his body._Fight it back. I have to be strong._

"Pardon me, sir?" Noah asked reflexively, barely noticing that he was giving respect to a man who definitely didn't deserve it. All of his focus was on breathing, listening, and _not thinking_ of what was to come.

"Are you sure I can't convince you not to do this, Noah?" Damian asked, enunciating clearly.

"I'm sure." Noah replied, ignoring the screaming voice in his head, begging him to go home, to go back to Luke. "Now, I should go. Thank you for telling me the truth, Damian… goodbye." Noah placed his hand on the door of the car, trying to gather the courage to get out.

"Noah, wait!" Damian yelled, his voice echoing. "If you insist on doing this, then take this." Reaching into his pocket, Damian pulled out a single object and gingerly placed it on Noah's lap. "I don't know if it will help, but at least you'll have it."

Noah picked it up, turned it over once in his hands, before slipping it into the waistband of his jeans and pulling his shirt over it, hoping the lump wasn't too visible. "Damian… thanks," Noah repeated, a hint of sincerity in his voice. There were thousands of questions he still had for Damian - how did he know his father was here, why was he helping him, what was he planning to do with Luke in Malta, did he approve of Luke being gay - but all he had to say was, "Take care of Luke for me if I don't…" Noah took a deep breath, "if I don't come back. Tell him that I love him, and not to blame himself for any of this.

"I will, Noah," Damian replied solemnly, before adding, "You're a good man. Don't forget that, no matter..." The rest of the sentence hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating. '_No matter what he does._'

"I won't," Noah responded, feeling that fear tingle across his fingertips. Without saying another word, Noah took one last glance at the clock before stepping out of the car, slamming the door shut and making his way up the dark, shadowed road.

_10:45._

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**Feedback is love!**


	24. Chapter TwentyThree

**I'm really, really sorry for how long this update took! Real life got in the way, and it really sucks.**

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Dallas stood on the front porch of the farmhouse, one hand poised over the doorbell while the other rested reassuringly on his gun holster. He had wrestled with himself over what to do from the moment his conversation had ended with Luke. On one hand, he had made a promise, and Dallas was nothing if not a man of his word. But what if something happened? That question had been echoing through his head for the past forty-five minutes.

Ultimately, what it had boiled down to was, could he deal with the guilt if something happened to Luke or Noah? The answer had been a swift and resounding 'no', and Dallas had found himself driving to the farm with every intention of telling Lily and Holden the truth.

Shaking himself back into the present, Dallas patted his gun absently before he rang the doorbell, wincing as the loud sound rang through the stillness of the night. Assuming that the Snyder's were in bed, he almost jumped in surprise when Lily answered the door within seconds, fully clothed.

She blinked at him once in surprise, and Dallas noticed the deep circles under her eyes, and the redness tingeing them. "Dallas?" she asked in surprise, before stepping forward and hugging him. "How can I help you?"

"Sorry if I woke you," Dallas said, the words coming almost unbidden from his mouth – a stalling tactic. He was about to ask if he could come inside when Lily cut him off.

"You didn't. None of us were sleeping, anyway," Lily explained. "Faith had… a bad dream, and everyone was just talking. Except for Luke… he went back to the apartment to be with Noah." Lily looked up, and her gaze sharpened when she saw Dallas stiffen ever so slightly. "Are you here about the boys? Is everything okay?"

"Can I come in?" Dallas asked, deliberately not answering Lily's question, something she realized immediately. Lily nodded wordlessly, her face paling as she stepped out of the doorway, allowing room for Dallas to answer.

"Sweetheart, who's… oh, Dallas," Holden said, walking over to the duo before stretching out a hand. "How can we help you?"

Dallas shook Holden's hand before rubbing the back of his neck, trying to figure out where to start. "Is Lucinda here?" he asked, knowing that she would be able to help him explain.

"No, she's not," Holden said slowly, instinctively running a hand down Lily's arm. "Why? This isn't a social call, is it?" Holden whispered, feeling Lily tense beside him at his words.

"No… it's not." Dallas confessed, wanting nothing more than to lie, to spare the Snyder's he knew he was about to cause them. "Can we sit down?"

"No!" Lily yelled unexpectedly, a sudden fire in her eyes. "If there's something going on with my boys, you tell me, and you tell me _now!_ There fine, right?" The anger morphed into desperation, and Lily was in Holden's arms before Dallas could blink, Holden's chin resting on top of her head. Holden's eyes burned into his, and Dallas could see the wavering strength mixed in with endless questions.

Dallas looked at his feet while Holden whispered to Lily. Moments later, she looked up and wiped tears from her eyes before beckoning Dallas to follow her. Dallas walked into the living room and noticed Faith and Natalie sitting on the couches, heads bent together, talking quietly.

They didn't look up until Holden cleared his throat, Lily behind him in an attempt to keep the girls from noticing how distraught she looked. "Faith, Nat, I think it's time you go to bed. It's almost eleven o'clock!" Holden's light tone fell flat, but only Faith seemed to notice. She narrowed her eyes as Natalie stood up off the couch, walking over to her dad and hugging him around the waist.

"'Night, daddy," Natalie said, squealing when Holden picked her up and kissed the top of her head.

"Goodnight, my angel," Holden whispered into her hair, just loud enough for his voice to break. Natalie kissed Holden on the cheek before hugging Lily as well, squeezing tight before heading up the stairs to her bedroom.

Faith was still sitting on the couch, her eyes darting from her parents to Dallas like a skittish colt. "Faith, honey, can you go keep Natalie company?" Lily asked from behind her husband, failing to hide her emotions. "Please?"

"No!" Faith yelled, jumping off of the couch. "Something's going on, and you're trying to hide it from me. I'm not stupid, mom. Nat will be fine without me, and I deserve to know what's going on. What _is_ going on?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Dallas.

Dallas took the slightest step back, more in shock than anything else; he'd had no idea that there was so much fire in Faith. He refused to answer her question, taking his cues from her parents instead.

"Faith…" Holden began, trying to figure out where to start. "We aren't treating you like you're stupid, it's just…."

"It's just that you don't think I deserve to know!" she yelled, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I know a lot more than you think I do! I know that Noah and Grandma Lucinda were doing something behind Luke's back, and no one caught on! I'm not stupid, you know." With that, Faith turned on her heel to run out of the room, before abruptly turning back around.

"No," she said, shaking her head before looking at each of the adults. "I'm not going to run away. I'm going to stay here until you tell me what's going on. And don't look at each other as if you're trying to figure out what to do with me," Faith blurted out suddenly. "I can tell when you do that."

Laughter bubbled up in Dallas's throat, and he turned it into a rather loud cough. Judging by the glare Faith sent his way, he hadn't done a good enough job of disguising it, but the entire situation was just so _Brady Bunch_ that he couldn't help it.

The knowledge of where Luke was heading, and where Noah already was, settled back into his skin, trickling down his spine like cold water and dispelling any humour he'd been indulging in. Faith was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and face set, daring anyone to challenge her right to be there.

Seconds ticked by, and the tension grew in the room until Holden and Lily sat down on an adjacent couch, a silent surrender to Faith's demands. There was no gloating on her face, however; just a fierce desire to be included.

The silence was broken by Lily's sniffles, followed shortly by Holden's short, effective question. "What's going on, Dallas?"

Dallas set his hands on his lap, folding them together as he tried to assume his professional 'cop' attitude, only to find that he couldn't. He _cared_ about Noah and Luke, damn it, and he couldn't just turn off his worry like a light switch.

"When was the last time you saw Luke or Noah?" Dallas asked, a perfunctory question that made the entire reason behind his visit clear. Lily paled further and Holden became motionless, unable to respond. Dallas was about to repeat the question when a small voice broke into the silence, fragile yet steady.

"He was here a few hours ago," Faith said, her eyes darting up and locking on Dallas's. "I called him… I needed someone to talk to, and he came right over."

"What time did he leave?" Dallas asked reflexively, the same question he'd asked thousands of times in countless interrogations. "Did he say where he was going?"

"Umm…" Faith mumbled, "I think he said that something was going on with Noah, and that he was heading to the apartment. Why? What's going on?"

Dallas took a deep breath for what seemed like the thousandth time that night before explaining. He started from the beginning, working his way to the current situation. Although he tried not to speculate, he did mention that he believed Eric had been shot by someone involved in the situation – meaning Winston. When he finished, his throat was dry, and he could see the shock and devastation etched on Lily, Holden, and Faith's faces.

"He's… he's gone?" Lily asked, the question so vague and yet so clear. "He's gone after the Colonel? And, and Noah's already there?" She brought a hand up to her mouth, but it was trembling so violently that she brought it back to her lap.

"Why didn't he tell us?" Holden whispered, his agony shining through.

"He told me… he told me that he didn't want you to prevent him from going to Noah," Dallas offered, hoping to provide some comfort.

"No, not just Luke!" Holden blurted, that agony only increasing. "Why didn't Noah come to us from the beginning? We're his family, just as much as we are Luke's. Why didn't he trust us enough to tell us?"

"Holden… I don't think it was a matter of trust, or love," Dallas began. "I think Noah was just trying to protect you, by keeping you away from his father." Dallas had no idea where his words were coming from; part cop intuition, and part guesswork, but he knew that he was speaking the truth nonetheless.

Holden swallowed once, heavily, before standing up and walking around the room. "Did he say where he was going?" Holden asked, knowing that it was a rhetorical question as soon as it slipped from his mouth. "Has anyone checked out his apartment?"

"I sent a unit over the apartment as soon as Luke called me," Dallas stated immediately. "They're over there as we speak, and they'll call me if they come across anything." He was about to continue, but was stopped as Faith stood up and ran out of the room, sobs trailing behind her. Lily rose, her own face  
blank with shock and anguish, ready to follow.

"I'll get her, honey," Holden said before turning and following Faith, calling after her. Dallas looked up at Lily, and saw the raw fear etched across her face.

"It's happening again," she whispered, almost to herself, the moment Holden was out of the room. "First there was the camping trip… then New York, and now that_bastard_ has taken my children away from me, again."

Dallas fidgeted, feeling powerless and having no clue of how to act. "Lily, I…" he said, trying to think of something soothing to say, something to help her cope. Ultimately, there was nothing he could do but hope that Lily could cope with this, on top of everything else.

"I need to call mom," Lily said suddenly, reaching for her phone. "She'll know what to do, she'll know how to help, she'll…" Dallas nodded as Lily's voice trailed off, not quite sure if she was talking to him or herself.

"Wait…" Lily whispered, still staring at her phone. Dallas paid little attention, lost in his own thoughts and assuming Lily was talking to herself. "Dallas!" she yelled, correcting his assumption.

"Yes?" he asked, all attention immediately on her.

"I know how to find my boys!" she exclaimed, grasping onto his shirt in excitement, or desperation; Dallas wasn't quite sure.

As if on cue, Holden walked back into the room, muttering something about Faith having gone to bed. One look at Lily's face showed him that something was going on. "What?" he asked, fear and hope represented equally in his voice.

"Holden, I know how to find Luke and Noah!" Her eyes were so full of hope and clarity that both Dallas and Holden couldn't help but believe her.

"How?" Dallas asked, preparing himself for the frantic tactics of a mother, desperate to have her children back. Lily explained, and Dallas found himself realizing that Lily was very, very right; this could be their way straight to Luke, and Noah… as long as they weren't too late.

*

*

Damian absently glanced over at the empty seat to his right before returning his attention to the road, speeding along the empty highway. The beginnings of fatigue were tugging at his body, begging him to drive to his temporary home and lie down, but he resisted. His job wasn't over yet; he had to make sure that his son was safe before he could give into his need for rest.

Damian firmly pushed any regrets he had aside. Regrets, as many years dealing with the more shady side of life had taught him, were for fools. He couldn't change the past, so there was no point in regretting what he had done. His theory had always rung a little hollow, especially after endless nights lying awake and thinking about _his_Luciano and _his_ Lily, so painfully far away from him.

'_This was supposed to change that,_' he thought absently, before shaking his head. _'Winston betrayed me, and that's that.'_ An icy rage descended over Damian when he thought about how he'd been played by the Colonel, played by a man who was almost as insane as they came. The rage numbed his mind, pushed back possibilities of schemes and revenge – although he never referred to them as 'schemes' – and caused him to act stupidly, recklessly. _Like I did with Noah._

That fierce, stupid regret pounded through him as he thought about what he had done; how he had left Noah alone with that psychopath. The regret was swiftly buried under pounds of rationalizations, but it was still there, festering and swelling.

Damian slammed on the breaks as he realized that he'd almost passed his turn, and turned his car to the right sharply. He drove halfway down the driveway before parking, turning off his headlights so his location wouldn't be revealed.

He grabbed his phone and dialled a number from memory, listening and barking a few short words into the phone before hanging up. The man he had talked to, Rogers, was patrolling the empty lot with a couple of Winston's former army friends. Damian had made sure to sneak a few of his own help in, so he could receive an unbiased report of what was going on. Even though he could trust Rogers, he didn't know if Rogers would be able to stop Winston's men from attacking if he, or Luke, went into the lot. Hence the reason he was parked in the middle of the driveway.

With the engine killed and no companionship, Damian was left alone to his thoughts; something he'd been trying to avoid at all costs over the past few days. Even though he refused to regret what he had done, he tried not to muse on past actions, and he found that when he was alone, his thoughts would stray there all-too-often.

The question that Noah had asked had stung him deeply, and repeated itself in his head with all the bravado it had originally carried. _Are you trying to punish Luke, for being who he is?"_

"Of course I'm not!" Damian yelled in response, his voice as loud as a gunshot among the silence. "I don't have a problem with Luciano being gay." Damian knew it was the truth; everything that had happened had nothing to do with Luciano being gay, and had everything to do with him refusing to acknowledge his Grimaldi lineage. If he had just _accepted_ who he was, then none of this would've happened.

As hard as he tried, Damian found that he couldn't get mad at his son; he loved him, and they were family. This was the last thought in his mind when headlights pierced through the windows, and the rumbling of a vehicle became clear.

Damian hastily switched on his headlights, not wanting whoever was driving down the road to crash into his car. His gut instinct, which he had learned long ago not to mistrust, had lead him to believe that Luciano would find out where his boy- where his friend had gone. If Luciano showed up here, it could be suicide; that's why Damian had been staking out the lot.

A car screeched to a halt in front of him, and a blonde figure jumped out of the drivers seat and ran for the forest, trying to conceal himself.

"Luciano!" Damian yelled, watching as the figure halted in its tracks. Slowly, the figure turned around, his silhouette outlined by the car's headlights. Brown eyes squinched up against the light, and a face that was undoubtedly his sons turned to face him.

"Damian?" A cracked, dry voice asked, "what are you doing here? Where's Noah? Did you take him?" Before Damian could say a word, Luke had him pinned against the car, his pure fury making up for the height, weight and age difference. "Where the _fuck_ is Noah, Damian?"

A small part of Damian marvelled at the masculinity pouring off of his son in waves, and how Noah seemed to be the one to bring it out of Luke. His thoughts quickly changed direction when he realized Luke had no intention of letting him go; the look in his eyes was feral, bordering madness.

"Luciano, I didn't kidnap Noah," Damian said, intentionally ignoring Luke's question. "Let me go, son. Please."

"I'm not your son." Luke growled, but released Damian nevertheless. "What are you doing here?" he repeated, holding his ground.

"Waiting for you," Damian replied, wincing internally at his choice of words.

"Waiting for… that means that you knew…" Luke stuttered, pieces flying together faster then he could track them. Unbidden, Noah's words from the station floated to mind; _"Why is he blackmailing Eric? How did he get the money to pay for Sarah's medical treatment? This isn't like him… all of this manipulating."_.

"You were the one helping the Colonel!" Luke screeched, stepping forward. "You… you caused all of this!" Luke raised a fist, wanting nothing more than to _pound_ the man in front of him, kill him for causing such a disaster.

"Yes," Damian admitted, "but I didn't mean for this to happen." Luke laughed, an ugly sound, and stepped even closer, his eyes burning with hatred.

"So that makes it okay?" Luke asked, seething. "That- that _absolves_ you from guilt?"

"No," Damian replied, choosing his words carefully, "and I can tell you want to hit me. But that's not going to help you find Noah." Luke visibly flinched, and his fist lowered. Part of him argued that this was Damian's manipulation at its most basic, primitive form. The other part of him didn't give a shit; he just wanted Noah back.

"Fine," Luke said, pushing past Damian and standing at the passenger side of the door. "You're going to take me to Noah. Now."

"Luciano, I can't," Damian said, "he's not here."

"What do you mean, he's not here?!" Luke screamed again, pounding a fist on the car door. "He has to be here – it's what the DVD said, it's where he went… I _know_ he's here!"

"It was a ruse," Damian began, before explaining the deception to Luke. To his surprise, Luke didn't interrupt, or blurt out anything; he just silently listened, before opening the car door and sitting inside.

"Luke?" Damian asked into the night air, before realizing his son couldn't hear him from within the car. He opened the door and ducked his head inside, only to be met with hard, brown eyes.

"Take. Me. To. Him." Luke demanded, daring Damian to challenge him. "If you ever want for me to even _consider_ you as my father again, you'll do this." _Blackmail and manipulation can go both ways._

Damian hesitated for a split second before getting into the car, revving the engine, and driving around Luke's car. There was silence before Luke said, "Damian… if this is a trick, and if I'm leaving Noah behind, right now… I'll kill you."

Damian had faced down mobsters, guns, knives, and more; yet his own son caused a reflexive shudder to work its way throughout his body. In that second, he had no doubt that Luke meant what he was saying.

"It's not, Luciano. I promise." With that, Luke fell silent for a brief moment. Moments later, he asked, "How do you know where Noah is now? Did Winston tell you?"

"No," Damian muttered, looking straight ahead. Before Luke could ask further, he explained what had happened, only twisting the events enough so that it seemed as if Damian had no choice of whether or not to take Noah; claiming that Noah had forced him, and that it was the best option.

When he finished, he glanced a look at Luke's face, and discovered that it was chalky white; just as Noah's had been hours earlier.

"How long ago did you drop him off?" Luke asked, tremors in his voice.

Damian looked at his wristwatch briefly before doing a quick calculation. "About an hour and a half ago," he said, chancing a glance at Luke and seeing his jaw clench.

"Do you have _any_ idea of what Winston could be doing to Noah right now?" Luke whispered. "Any idea at all? He could be- oh god, he could be…" Luke's voice choked off, and Damian instinctively lifted a hand off of the steering wheel to set on Luke's shoulder.

Luke twisted away from the touch so violently that Damian thought the car would swerve because of it. "Don't you _dare_ touch me," Luke hissed, pressing back into the corner of his seat. "Besides, you shouldn't touch the little faggot. You might be infected."

"Don't call yourself that!" Damian shouted, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Why not?" Luke retorted, just as quickly. "It's what you think, so why can't I say it?"

"None of this has to do with you being… gay," Damian said, knowing that Luke woudn't believe him. "None of it, I promise."

"You promise?" Luke laughed, harsh as ever. "Sorry Damian, but I don't think your word is worth _anything_. Now, take me to Noah." Damian was about to retort, but chose to fall silent and focus on driving, wracking his brains in effort to find a way for this to work out – without fatalities.

*

*

Noah stood along the edge of the trees, his eyes resting on the small, wooden house lying in front of him. He had been expecting a shed, a warehouse, a storage locker; not a manicured backyard and a home with all lights on.

As Noah looked on, he slowly realized how smart that the location his father – Winston – had chose truly was. No one would look for him here, in a house where a family could live with their pet dogs. They'd be looking for 'typical' kidnapping places.

Noah ran a hand over his stomach, feeling the slightest hint of reassurance when his fingers brushed hard metal through the material of his t-shirt. He mentally thanked Damian for the gift, knowing it would either be his savior or his murderer.

Noah inhaled the cool night air, mixed with the scent of pine and earth, before stepping out of the cover of the trees. He made his way to the house, hoping that the darkness was concealing his shape from anyone watching, and knowing that it most likely wasn't. As he walked towards the house, he realized that it was elevated on a hill, allowing whoever was inside to see below. Noah involuntarily shivered as he remembered countless lessons about battle tactics – being on higher ground then 'the enemy' had always been one of Winston's main rules.

Every step caused more dread to sweep through Noah's system, until he could barely force himself to move. The only thing keeping him from running away, running and never returning, was Luke. Knowing that his sacrifice was going to keep Luke safe was all that it took to keep his mind steady, and to keep his purpose clear.

When he reached the door, he raised a hand to twist the doorknob. The door swung open. There was no ominous creek, no gloomy shapes forming against the wall – somehow, it made everything creepier. Out of all of the horror movies Noah had watched, none of them quite fit what he was seeing now.

Warmth immediately embraced him, heating his chilled body. There was an electrical fireplace in the corner of the room, and a light green carpet. The walls were painted a creamy white, and an oak table was just visible from the next room. The atmosphere should've relaxed him, but it put him even more on edge instead; this was unexpected, and unexpected couldn't be good.

Noah refused to let his guard down, choosing to lay one hand on his stomach as he pressed his back to a wall, working his way across the room. When he had passed into what he assumed was the kitchen without hearing a noise, Noah felt the beginning of questions run through his head. _Did Damian lie to me? Is my dad even here?_

Noah felt the tension beginning to leave him when a noise echoed from below him, resonating throughout the house. Noah froze, before hearing the noise echo yet again. It continued to repeat, and Noah followed it gingerly until he was standing at the top of a flight of stares. The noise was still there; it sounded as if something was being banged against metal. _It's as if he's trying to let me know where he is._

Noah fought off his instincts to leave by drawing a picture of Luke to mind – the way his cheeks would dimple when he laughed, how the heat of his body on top of him made Noah feel as if he was grounded, how those brown eyes could light up his entire world.

Feeling like a tightrope walker that just stepped off their wire, Noah pressed his foot onto the top stair, slowly making his way downwards. Thirteen steps later and he was at the bottom, only a door separating him from whatever was to come. Before he could talk himself out of it, Noah opened the door and inhaled sharply, waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows.

When nothing happened, Noah gingerly stepped into the room, noting how only the hints of light were visible in it, leaving the room to be swathed in shadows. It seemed infinite, and Noah could barely see beyond his own hand.

Four steps in, and Noah heard a noise behind him. He swung around as the lights flickered on, casting a dim glow on the grey walls and concrete floor. Standing behind him was a man he'd never seen before, aiming a rifle at his chest.

The man stepped closer, pressing the butt of the gun against Noah's skin briefly before retreating. "Walk," the man said, his lips barely moving. Noah hesitated, and the gun struck him again, this time on the side of the head, hard enough to make his ears ring. "I said, walk!"

Turning numbly, Noah walked forwards, waiting for the crack of a bullet to be heard, waiting for a trigger to be pulled. When the man said, "Stop," and Noah was still standing, he realized that he wasn't going to be shot – at least not by this man.

"That's all, Grey. Go resume your position." A voice echoed from the darkness, causing Noah's throat to tighten and fear to zing through his body. Any doubts he'd had about his father being alive were washed away with those seven words.

Winston stepped out of the shadows, a stream of light outlining his features. Noah absently noticed that there were lines on his father's face that hadn't been there before, and he seemed smaller – skinnier, perhaps? He was shook out of his thoughts when he heard the man behind him protest.

"Colonel, sir, I don't think that…"

"You don't think what, Grey?" Winston asked. Noah flinched, recognizing the soft tone all too well. It was the tone Winston would use preceding punishment, the one he'd use to explain just how Noah's punishment was his fault, and that if he had just been a little bit better, a little bit stronger, none of it would've been necessary. "You don't think I can handle this?"

"No, it's not that, Colonel!" Grey sounded panicked, and his words were tripping over each other. "I just, I don't want to leave you alone, in case…"

"In case I can't handle my own son?" Winston asked delicately, a savage grin spreading across his face. Noah couldn't see behind him, but he assumed that Grey had reacted to the threat-laced words.

"You know what, Grey? I think you've outlived your purposes." Before Noah could blink, before Grey had time to aim his rifle, a shot cracked through the air, the bullet close enough to Noah for him to feel the breeze on his cheek.

There was a strangled gasp, then a thud, and Noah found himself frozen in fear. "Go ahead, look," Winston said casually, amusement in his voice. "Do it, Noah." The taunt turned into a command, and the eight year old in Noah was turning around, eyes scanning the ground.

When he saw the man lying on the ground, he bit his tongue until it bled to hold back the scream. There was a blood pool on the ground, and the man's eyes were wide, his mouth opened in a silent scream. His ear was missing, along with part of his scalp; it had been blown off. Blood and brains oozed from the hole, and Noah swallowed heavily in an attempt to prolong vomiting.

When he had his urge to vomit under control, Noah slowly turned back around, only to see the amused face of his father staring back at him. "So, Noah," he said, a flash of silver visible before Noah realized there was yet another gun pointed at his head. "I'm sorry for how rude this is, but I can't really trust you, can I?"

Noah was silent, worrying his lip. "Answer me, Noah," the Colonel said, stepping closer and allowing Noah to see the madness reigning free behind those blue eyes.

"You can," Noah croaked out, knowing it was a lie. Without warning, there was a hard punch to his jaw, causing Noah's ears to ring and for him to hit the floor. He scrambled back up when he realized that the warmth beneath his hands was blood, still dripping from Grey's wound.

"You know how much I hate liars, Noah," Winston said casually, jerking the gun in Noah's direction. "Stand up and come over here."

A sharp retort was on the edge of Noah's lips, but he forced it back. He was almost sure that his father wouldn't kill him – yet – but he wasn't willing to take that chance. Until he could come up with a plan to get out of here, or to use Damian's gift, he had to play along.

Noah stepped forwards, eyes darting warily from the gun to his father's face, looking for any signs of humanity, only to be greeted with cold fury.

Winston kept the gun steady, aiming it at Noah's heart. "Step into the room behind me," Winston demanded. "You have ten seconds – if you're not in there, I'll shoot."

"You won't kill me," Noah blurted out, a small act of rebellion. "I'm no use to you dead."

"Maybe not," Winston mused, before an insane smile broke out on his lips, "but how would you like it if I shot a bullet in your elbow, or your kneecap?" The gun's aim changed, and Noah saw it was pointing downwards, at his groin. "Or even better, I could shoot your nuts off," Winston gloated, "it's not like a pervert like you needs them anyway."

Noah was blinded by fear, his limbs feeling disjointed. He refused to beg, knowing that it was what his father wanted. Minutes ticked by, before the gun was repositioned over his heart. "Get in the room, now." He knew he should be plotting a way to escape, to _not_ give in to what the maniac standing in front of him wanted, but he couldn't help it. The shock of seeing a man killed, the shock of his father being alive, the shock of all of it was simply too much; Noah numbly obeyed.

He stepped backwards, keeping his eyes on his father, not on the gun. He refused to give him that satisfaction. He continued walking backwards until his back was pressed against a wall. The room was lit by a single bulb dangling overhead, illuminating bleak surroundings.

Before Noah realized what was happening, a slam reverberated throughout the room. He raced across the room, but it was too late; Winston had shut the doors behind him, leaving him locked in. Noah pounded on the door, only to realize that it was steel – Noah's hand came away bloody.

Words were echoing through the smallest crack in the door, and Noah strained his ears to listen. "I'll be back later, son. Then, we can talk, and figure out how I'm going to make you realize that you are a Mayer, and are _not_ a pervert." With that, there was silence; complete, utter, mind numbing silence.

Noah forced down the panic and looked around the room. There was no bed, no bathroom, nothing; just four walls, a light bulb, a floor, and a ceiling. There was a window about ten feet off the ground, but Noah couldn't reach it, and he had nothing to break it with. Even if he could've broken it, there was no way he could squeeze his way out. The window was barely a foot wide.

Realizing he was trapped and at his father's mercy, Noah pressed his back to the cold wall and sank to the ground, allowing the numbness surrounding his body to leech into his brain. He felt cold metal digging into his skin. Shivering slightly, Noah realized that this was it. It was only a matter of time until his father came back, and then… Noah sighed heavily and wrapped his arms tighter around his body, refusing to contemplate what came next.

Ducking his head, he did something he hadn't done since he was just a child; he prayed. Not to God, but to Luke, to the Snyder's; to someone that could save him, save him from what he knew was going to come.

--

**As always, I hope you liked it! Reviews mean the world to me =)**


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

*****Notes - I can't even begin to apologize for how late this chapter was. In my defence, I was really, really sick with H1N1, and that's why this newest chapter took so long to post. I'm healthy now though, so chapters should be posted more frequently. I hope you like it!**

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Noah stood up stiffly, feeling the muscles in his legs shake in the effort. He was tired, he was sore, and he was scared out of his mind; the adrenaline rush that had pounded through his veins when he'd arrived at the house had faded, leaving him feeling as if he was made of jelly.

His eyes flickered about the room - his cell - for what seemed like the thousandth time. He had examined every inch of the room looking for a trap door, a secret passage, anything that would help him get out. All he had found was reinforced concrete, and a fading hope that he would be able to bust his way to freedom.

Leaning against the wall, Noah shook his head to clear it of his its thoughts, trying to think of an escape plan. Although he _knew_that he was stuck and that there was no way for him to get out of this hellhole unless his father released him personally, he still plotted; more for something to focus on then in actual hopes that an escape plan would work.

Knowing that he was _trapped_ like a caged animal caused fear to thrum through his veins yet again, and he cast a gaze at the door as if he expected someone to barge through it at that exact moment. The worst part was that he would've almost preferred to have someone, anyone, barge in, if only so he could see another human face.

Noah had no idea how long he'd been locked away for - his brain told him that it couldn't have been more than an hour, but it felt so much longer. The worst part, Noah had decided, was the silence. It was suffocating, overwhelming to the point that he just wanted to scream, to assure himself that he still had a voice, and that this silence wasn't permanent.

The same urge that beckoned him to scream also kept him silent; fear of what would happen if he uttered a noise shut down his vocal cords, much like a child afraid to talk in a library. Except this, Noah snorted, was no library. Yet again, he cursed his stupidity at rushing headfirst into the situation without thinking; something he'd chastised Luke on many times before. _What did you think - the Colonel was going to ask you to tea?_ He'd reacted blindly, without thinking, and although a small part of him had known that he'd end up regretting his actions, he wouldn't take them back. This way, he knew Luke was safe.

Noah paced the room in an effort to calm down, walking close enough to the wall for his jacket to brush against the concrete, cold and firm. He'd measured how many paces the room was after his initial breakdown; four by six, a small area made larger by lack of furnishings. In fact, the room was bare with the exception of a long bar that ran parallel to the floor across one wall, at waist height, and a light bulb overhead. The light bulb swayed, as if caught in an invisible breeze, casting shadows upon the floor that moved as if they were alive.

After circling the room three times, Noah leaned back against the wall opposing the door, eyes trained where the door met the wall as if he could force someone to come down simply by staring hard enough. His desperation to see someone was frightening him, but he couldn't help it. If he could see someone, then maybe he could understand _why_ he was being left alone, left in isolation, although part of him already knew the answer.

From the time that he was five until he moved to Oakdale, the Colonel had given Noah lessons. Not math, not science, not history, but tactical lessons. He'd spend hours explaining what to do on the battlefield, and how to kidnap 'the enemy', how to make them talk. He'd shown Noah ways guaranteed to bring about confessions, and had proved their effectiveness by demonstrating them on Noah himself. Shivering, Noah brushed his fingers absently against the elongated scar on the small of his back, a painful reminder of one of the many times when his lessons had gone too far.

The most effective method of breaking people, the Colonel had explained with a fanatical gleam in his eyes, was to leave them alone. Leave them without human contact, without _any_ contact, and they'd break before the torture had even begun. "_The anticipation of what's to come,"_ Winston had raved, "_will have them begging for mercy before the fun's even begun."_

Allowing him to reminisce on days spent alone, stomach rumbling with hunger and only a glass of water to sustain him, Noah realized what the Colonel's plan was; bring back memories of being alone, being punished, being abandoned, and maybe he'd cling to the only human contact he'd have - Winston himself.

Noah chuckled low in his throat, sardonically, refusing to think about his father's plan had almost worked. Instead, he lowered himself back to the cold floor and shut his eyes, trying to focus on… well, anything besides this cold room, with its dark shadows.

He'd barely been sitting for a minute when he heard something thumping to his right, beyond the wall. Running across the short distance, Noah pressed his ear to the freezing wall as if it would help him to hear. The thumping sound was regular, and seemed to be moving upwards. _Up the stairs, maybe?_

Shutting his eyes, Noah focused hard, and realized that it sounded as if something heavy was being dragged. _A dead weight._ Noah's eyes flew open as he realized that someone was dragging the man that had been shot, Grey, up the stairs. Immediately, Noah began to think of other explanations, but he knew that his first conclusion was the truth. The Colonel was 'disposing the evidence.'

Trying to quell the horror rising within him at the thought of a human life being treated so casually, Noah settled against the floor, steadfastly ignoring the noises moving above him. His revulsion was mixed in with guilt. He wasn't upset over the treatment of the soldier's body as much as he was terrified. If his father could kill and bury a man without compunction, then what would he do to his helpless son, trapped in a basement?

_Not helpless,_ Noah thought, once again resting a hand over the gun tucked into his waistband. Damian's gift had been resting their since he'd arrived. Every time he'd moved to take it out, he'd made an excuse; his father could be coming, he could be caught with it, the timing wasn't right.

The truth was that he was scared, scared that he'd pull out the gun, only to be unable to shoot it. He didn't know if he had it in him not only to kill, but to kill his own father. Even though he knew that Winston wasn't his family, not by a long shot, part of Noah wanted to believe that Winston could change and accept him. It was a fantasy, Noah knew, but the allure was so strong that he had trouble fighting it.

Sighing, Noah moved his hand off the gun and ran it through his hair. No matter what his excuses were, he had to decide whether or not to use the gun before Winston confronted him again. Noah had no idea how many people, if any, were in the house, or if Winston would send a hired hand to fetch him instead of retrieving him personally. _Or, he could be leaving me down here to die._

Firmly pushing the last thought out of his mind, Noah rested his head in his hands, ears alert for any noise, and lost himself in his thoughts.

An undetermined amount of time passed, marked only by Noah's deep breaths, before a slam was heard throughout the house, loud enough for it to reverberate in the room. Noah shot to his feet out of reflex, the instinct not to be caught defenceless urging him on. He pressed his back against the wall, wincing as the rough surface rubbed against his back, before realizing how weak the position made him look. Slowly, he took a step away from the wall, eyes trained on the door with an intensity that he didn't know he possessed.

He heard footsteps hit the last stair before he abruptly remembered the gun, still hidden beneath his clothes. He shot a hand to it before pausing, knowing that once he pulled it out, he'd have to use it - there would be no going back.

His indecision cost him precious moments, and his choice was made for him as the front door swung open silently, the shadow of a man behind it. Noah's hand dropped down to his side, and he hastily tugged his t-shirt forward, hoping to conceal the gun's bump.

Colonel Winston stepped out of the darkness and into the room, although the shadow's still clung to him, caressing his legs and twining across his body. The door behind him was wide open, and Noah could faintly make out the arrogant smirk on his face, mixed with some other unidentifiable emotion. For some reason, it reminded Noah of a when a child finds a toy they thought they'd lost, only to discover an irreparable scratch down the side, tainting what had been.

As hard as Noah tried to resist, his eyes kept drifting to the open space behind the Colonel. _Freedom,_ a voice whispered in Noah's mind, nearly overpowering rational thought, _it's yours for the taking._

Noah shook his head slightly, knowing he had to stay calm, stay smart, if he wanted to get out of this alive. He saw an eyebrow rise, a lip twist, amusement glint in his father's gaze over his inexplicable head shake, but Noah chose not to say anything - standing still instead.

The silence ranged on, and it was infinitely worse then when Noah had been alone. The urge to speak, to question, to scream, was nearly overpowering him, but Noah restrained himself with control that he didn't know he had. Part of him recognized that this was a challenge, to see if isolation had affected him, and Noah was determined not to rise to the bait.

The silence was broken when a low chuckle emerged from Winston's throat, filled with sadistic amusement. It sent chills up Noah's spine, and he tilted his chin upwards in defiance, refusing to let something has trivial as Winston's _laugh_ unsettle him - ignoring the fact that it already had.

"Not even a hello for your old man?" Winston asked in a voice that would've been casual, if not for the undertone of steel. Noah chose not to answer, resisting the urge to cross his arms, to block himself away from the man standing in front of him.

"I suggest you answer me, son," Winston demanded, the steel in his voice mixing with something darker, something relentless.

"Hello," Noah spat from unused vocal cords, twisting the word into a curse, eyes blazing. Winston laughed again, the sound like nails grating down a chalkboard. In the dark, Noah thought he saw something akin to surprise flash in those cold grey eyes, but it was gone before he could blink, lost in the shadows surrounding them.

"Why, Noah," the Colonel continued, "that's no way to greet your father. Aren't you going to ask how I've been? I'm beginning to think that you didn't miss me at all." Winston stepped the slightest hint forwards, and Noah stood up straighter as a result, fighting every instinct that begged him to back up and to get away.

"I didn't miss you," Noah responded, voice cool. "I thought you were dead - too damned bad you couldn't have stayed that way."

An inhuman growl tore out of Winston's throat, and Noah almost swayed as pure, raw fear swept through him. Winston took a step forward, then another, and Noah felt his mouth dry even as he stayed completely still.

A silver gleam caught his eye, and Noah realized that his father had a gun. It was resting in his hand, the casual grip an illusion. Noah knew that if he tried to wrestle the gun away or make a sudden move, he'd be worse then dead. As long as he stayed still, he'd be safe. _I hope._

Finally, the Colonel stopped moving, less then a scant foot away. His breath ghosted across Noah's face, cool and smelling of peppermint. The familiar smell brought back childhood memories, both good and bad; Winston's elation the first time Noah hit the bulls eye and target practice. his fury when Noah accidentally a plate at a formal dinner; fishing trips, beatings, love, hate… it all blended together until Noah was blinking moisture out of his eyes, teeth clamped firmly on his inner cheek to keep all sounds inside of him.

Winston seemed oblivious to Noah's inner turmoil as he leaned closer, filling Noah's vision with lined skin and steely grey. "You're going to regret that," he whispered, barely controlled menace dripping from his words. "I don't know who the _hell_ you think you are, but you are _NOT_ the son that I raised. My son would never…" Winston's voice faded into a feral growl, whatever he was thinking too repulsive to say out loud.

"But that's fine." Menace gone, Winston leaned back slightly and let his eyes travel appraisingly over his son's body, cataloguing weaknesses and strengths. "I'm going to fix you, turn you into the kind of man you're supposed to be!"

"I already am who I'm supposed to be," Noah shot out impulsively. He could feel his heart pounding, sending blood rushing through his veins. The taste of fear was strong on his tongue, coppery and bitter. Noah swallowed once, right before a punch smashed his head against the concrete wall.

His feet slipped out from under him, but Noah pressed his back into the wall, forcing himself to stay upright. His vision blurred and faded, and his head ached, pounding as if something was trapped inside.

"Watch it, son," Winston whispered, finally using that hated nickname. "Next time, I won't be so kind." the butt of a gun pressed against Noah's chest briefly in warning before Winston turned and walked out of the room - his back to Noah.

If Noah hadn't been in such pain, he would've been shocked at the complete arrogance of his father. He'd turned his back to his prisoner, whom he hadn't even bothered to search for weapons. _Does he really believe I'm that helpless?_

Noah had no answer to his internal question, choosing to sink to the floor as soon as he determined that his father was gone. He gingerly touched a hand to the back of his head, wincing as it came away wet. Blood shone scarlet against the tan of his skin.

After determining that the injury wasn't fatal - just painful - Noah focused on breathing, trying to still all movement. The back of his head throbbed in sync with where his father's punch had landed. The threat of a concussion loomed, but Noah firmly pushed it away. He didn't have the energy to worry about anything but the immediate situation at hand.

His stomach rumbled unexpectedly, reminding him that it had been hours since he'd last ate. Noah ignored that too, shutting his eyes against the pains, the pangs, the misery, hoping against hope that someone would come save him.

**  
*

"What's taking so long?" Luke nearly growled. "Can't you drive any faster?" He was too far gone to care about the desperation in his voice and the constant hitches in his breathing that sounded like a prelude to tears.

"I'm already driving thirty miles over the speed limit, Luke," Damian explained for the fifth time in the hour. "It's too dark out to go any faster, especially with the risk of wildlife running onto the road."

Luke sank back into his seat, resuming his previous actions of dragging his fingernails up and down his inner forearm. Angry red marks had welled up, but yet he continued; up, down, up, down. The pain was a distraction, and god knew that he needed a distraction. If he thought about what could be happening to Noah, _right that second_… Luke renewed the scratching with a vigil.

"Luciano, what are you doing?" Damian asked, flicking a button to turn on the interior lights and leaning over the seat. Luke quickly crossed his arms, but not quickly enough; the lines were glaringly obvious in the artificial light. "Lucia- Luke?"

"It's nothing," Luke snapped, cursing his own weakness, that _Damian_ had caught on to something that no one else had. "Shouldn't you be focused on driving?" The light in the car flicked off, and Luke's bitch face was lost in the darkness.

"Luciano…" Damian began, the tone one that Luke had heard a thousand times; it was a prelude to a lecture. Rage filled him, and Luke opened himself up to it. It was hot, burning, and a welcomed change from his icy fears.

"Don't you _dare_ lecture me, Damian," he spat out, unaware of his shaking voice. "You have _no fucking idea_ of what I'm going through right now, and don't pretend like you do. What I do is my business, not yours. Got it?"

Damian spoke up, a tinge of hesitancy in his words that Luke rejoiced to hear. "Luke, I was going to ask you what you're planning on doing when we arrive." Luke's face flushed, and he turned to look out the window as if Damian could see his reddened face.

"What I'm going to do?" Luke repeated, sounding stunned. "Save Noah, of course. What else?" Luke kept his gaze out the window, not wanting to look at the Italian beside him.

"So you plan to just barge in there, without a plan, and hope that you and Noah will stumble your way to freedom?" Damian's tone was even, but the incredulity in his words was obvious, even to Luke. "You need a plan, Luciano."

"I'll improvise," Luke said, wincing at how weak the words sounded. "There's nothing I _can_ do, anyways." _Excuses._

"Let me call my contacts," Damian said softly, not unkindly. "They can meet us at the house, and we can scout around to find a way in - a _safe_ way in," he added when Luke opened his mouth in protest.

"I can't sit around and wait for your cronies to show up!" Luke yelled, pounding a fist against the window in frustration. "Don't you understand that? Noah's alone, and he could be _hurt_, and I need to get to him!" Tears were rolling down Luke's face, borne of fear and frustration, and he swiped at them angrily. "I don't care what happens to me, as long as he's safe!"

If Damian was disturbed by Luke's tears, or his confession, he didn't show it; instead, he chose to reach across the seat and lay a hand on Luke's knee in comfort. Luke initially recoiled from the touch, but didn't fling the hand off. His need for contact, contact from _anyone_ was stronger then his conflicted feelings over his biological father.

"Luke," Damian whispered, so softly that Luke had to strain to hear him. "If you rush in their, blindly and unprotected, you're just putting Noah at more risk. You have to think this through. You can't afford to go in there without thinking; Noah's life is at stake."

"So what do you think I should do?" Luke asked, sounding defeated. "I can't… can't wait around. When we get there, I _have_ to go in. Please understand that." Luke couldn't even bring himself to care that he was begging.

"Let me go in first," Damian declared, shocking Luke. "I can be the decoy; I'll distract him, and you can get to Noah."

"I didn't know you and the Colonel are on speaking terms," Luke said suspiciously, eyeing Damian. "He's okay with you?"

"No," Damian chuckled lowly, "he's not." At Luke's confused expression, he elaborated. "When I found out the direction that he was taking this scheme… I was very displeased. We had a fight. It didn't end well." Damian's words were as clipped as his sentences, and his accent grew heavier.

"Will he try and hurt you?" Luke asked, equally shocked and worried. At Damian's slight nod, Luke continued. "Why would you risk yourself like that? You don't even_know_ Noah."

"But you know him, and you love him," Damian replied simply, as if he didn't even have to think about it. "And it's my fault that he's in this situation. He's innocent of this mess, and he doesn't deserve this." _For once, I'm going to do the right thing for you, Luciano."_

Luke gaped like a fish on land, his mouth opening and shutting repeatedly. Once he got himself under control, he realized that he didn't know what to say. "Th- thank you," he choked out, finding that the words were untainted by cynicism.

Damian didn't reply, choosing to nod once in response before looking ahead as he continued to drive. "We should be there in half an hour," Damian said, not realizing how Luke's heart simultaneously dropped and hardened at the words.

Silently, Luke vowed that he would do anything to save Noah, to get him free - no matter what the cost.

**

Noah stared blankly ahead, his eyes fixed on his father's shining forehead. He'd come back down to his cell twenty minutes after originally leaving, and had immediately gone into lecture mode. At the moment, he was explaining in explicit detail how he was going to 'fix' Noah, turn him straight.

"Did you know, Noah, that they've found some very effective methods in treating perversities such as your own?" Winston rambled, eyes burning fanatically. "One of the most effective methods that they've found was electroshock therapy.

"So?" Noah asked, feigning boredom. _Crack!_ Noah's head shot to the side as Winston backhanded him, an excruciating pain rocketing through him. His hands were tied to the bar on the wall behind him, something he'd been forced to do to himself at gunpoint. He hadn't expected his father to be returning so soon, and had been taken by surprise, left without a chance to use his own weapon. _Next time,_ he vowed silently, knowing his words were true, _next time, I'm going to use it._

"Don't talk back to me," Winston growled. "Electroshock will cure you of this lack of respect you've developed, too."

Finally clueing in, Noah felt the blood drain from his face. "You're planning on using it…on me?" He hated the waver in his voice, but he continued to look straight into Winston's eyes, refusing to be meek, or obedient.

"Among other things," Winston said, reaching out and patting Noah on the shoulder; he chose to ignore the way Noah clenched his jaw at the sudden touch. "I'm sorry that it has to be like this, son, but you need to understand. I love you, and I'm doing this for you. I want what's best for you, and this life of perversity, of _sinning_, is not it. When you're back to normal, you'll thank me for what I've done."

Channelling fear into anger, Noah glared with all the passion that he had before saying, "I'm never, _ever_ going to thank you. So don't delude yourself."

Another punch, this time to Noah's stomach. He keeled over as much as he could with the restraints, a muffled moan escaping from his parted lips. A moment later and he was forcing himself upright, ignoring the screaming pain originating from his abdomen.

"I'll be back in an hour, Noah," Winston said casually, setting the gun against Noah's temple in warning as he undid the bindings. "And then… then we'll fix this problem, for once and for all." The Colonel sank an elbow into Noah's stomach again before turning and leaving, the blow carrying enough force to cause Noah to shout out loud and fall to the ground.

By the time the pain had faded enough for Noah to stand, the door was shut, his father gone. _An electroshock machine… oh god…_ Noah could faintly remember seeing those machines in horror movies, where torture was faked with sound effects and paid actors. _But this isn't going to be acting… he's going to…_

Feeling sick, Noah pulled the gun out of his waistband, aimed it at the door, and waited, vowing that the next time Winston saw him would be the last.

**Would it be selfish to ask for a review, even though this chapter was so incredibly late? **


	26. Chapter TwentyFive

**Disclaimer – If you don't recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – This is one of the longest chapters yet – around 6000 words. I hope you like it!**

**--**

Trees loomed overhead, arcing inwards, creating a tunnel of sorts. The foliage above was too thick for light to pierce through, turning the dark night coal black, the kind of black you only see in crayon boxes. Luke walked along the dirt path, one arm extended slightly in front of him reflexively, in case something loomed in front of him, masked by the night.

Luke had never been a fan of the dark, sleeping with a night light until the embarrassing age of twelve. His family had always reassured him that it was fine, that it was normal – after all, what boy wouldn't be afraid of the dark with a past like his? – but still, Luke hated it. It wasn't because it reminded him of being locked in that tower in Malta, cold and bleak and dark, treasuring whatever light came in through a cracked door. No, Luke's fear of the dark had centered _around_ the fact that in the dark, shapes loomed. You didn't know what they were, if they were good or bad… you only knew that they were there, and you couldn't do a damned thing about it.

Something cracked behind him, and Luke was snapped out of his thoughts, whirling around, only to make out the faintest glow of blonde hair illuminated by a rare break in the trees. _Damian_, he thought, exhaling slowly and steadily, ignoring his thudding heart. _It's only Damian._

They'd parked the car a mile and a half back from the house, something Luke had protested stridently to. Damian had been insistent, saying that driving any closer could put Winston or his cronies on alert, and Luke had nearly snapped. Nearly. He'd been gathering his breath to yell, to scream, to _make_ Damian drive the car when his father had asked a simple question, one that sucked the breath right back out of him. Luke stumbled slightly as he thought back to that conversation.

_"I know you don't trust me, son," he'd said, pained sincerity in his voice. "But here's my question – does your distrust in me weigh out your love for Noah?" Luke had sat back, outrage lost, staring at Damian with eyes as wide as saucers.___

_"I love Noah!" he'd protested, all raw sincerity. "How can you even think otherwise?" Frustration, anger, fear, terror, hope; they all boiled together into that one sentence, enough force for Luke's voice to crack.___

_"Then you need to decide if you hate me more than you love Noah," Damian had replied simply, looking oddly sincere, genuinely truthful. "I swear, Luke, I swear on my love for you that this isn't a trick to delay our arrival. It's necessary. Okay?"___

_Luke had grunted a weak affirmation before pushing past Damian and demanding to know where to go. Damian had simply pointed at a path to the right of the road, nearly hidden by overgrown shrubs and bushes, and Luke had been off like a shot. Forty minutes later and Luke was still leading, Damian on his tail._

--

Shaking his head back to the present, Luke looked ahead and opened his eyes wide when he saw a break in the trees, the thinning of branches and leaves. He picked up his pace, only to trip over a root inlaid on the forest floor, narrowly avoiding smashing into the ground. Righting himself, he felt Damian's hand on his shoulder, a light and cautious touch. Luke shrugged it off before heading towards the end of the path.

When he reached the clearing, he gazed ahead to see a log house, complete with a white fence surrounding it and a manicured lawn. A garden bed was off to his right, and Luke could make out garden statues, hovering along the edge of the garden.

He turned to Damian, knowing his expression was hopelessly confused. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Luke asked, casting his gaze around. "I mean, Damian… there's _garden gnomes_ here. It doesn't make sense."

Damian sighed, running a hand through his hair and sighing as flakes of gel showered down around him. "Yes, I'm sure this is the place, Luke," Damian replied, weariness in his posture and voice. "This place… Winston's borrowing it." Luke could've let it pass, but something in Damian's voice, in the way he nervously ran his tongue across his lips, caused Luke to ask.

"Borrow?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows in suspicion. "What do you mean?" Damian's regretful gaze was answer enough, and Luke stepped back, his back pressing against the rough bark of a tree. "He killed the people that this house belonged to," Luke whispered, only to be drowned out by a hooting owl. "Didn't he?"

No answer was needed, but Damian nodded anyways before trying to explain himself. "When my suspicions about Winston began to grow, I followed him out here one night. I recorded the address, and had my contacts look into it." Damian sighed, looking off into the distance.

"And?" Luke pushed, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. Hell, he already _knew_ what Damian was going to say, but vocalizing it would make it too real, too inescapable.

"The house belongs to a couple who just returned from their honeymoon," Damian replied, his eyes locked on Luke's, trying to make him understand through his gaze. "They'd been here for a week when Winston… well, you know."

Luke tried to speak, but his throat closed off, something heavy blocking it. "How old?" He managed, before choking out one more word. "Why?" The last question was rhetorical, but Damian answered it anyways.

"He was twenty-three, and she was twenty-one," Damian said, watching Luke's face pale under the moonlight. "Winston… he needed a place remote, and he couldn't risk anyone stumbling upon it. This must've seemed perfect."

"Perfect?" Luke stuttered out, "perfect? You mean he _killed_ two innocent people just for this?" He knew that he shouldn't be so surprised, but he was. Every time he thought he had Winston figured out, he found out something that sent his comprehension rocking away from him.

Damian didn't answer, running a warm hand down the length of Luke's arm, shoulder to wrist. "Come on, Luke," he whispered, slightly urgently, "we need to figure out a plan."

"Any ideas?" Luke asked, too tired, too _sick_ of everything, to fight with Damian over what to do. So far, the older man had been right on every count. Even though every stubborn bone in his body protested it, Luke reluctantly passed control on to Damian.

Damian seemed to recognize it, and he stood up slightly straighter. "I'm going to go into the house, and you're going to stay here," Damian said, quickly continuing when Luke stiffened in surprise. "I need to make sure it's safe, and Winston will be more… receptive, to me then he would be to you."

"Are you sure?" Luke asked, back still scraping against the bark of the tree. Damian hesitated before nodding, long enough for them both to know it was an obvious lie. Instead of arguing, which would just waste time, Luke nodded before stepping forwards, not sure what he was going to do. _Hug Damian?_ Instead, he extended a hand in a handshake, squeezing Damian's hand when he grabbed it. "Thank you," he said, before whispering a last piece of advice under his breath, watching as Damian nodded his head in understanding.

Damian ran a hand through Luke's hair in a brief, affectionate gesture before he was gone, edging along the trees as he made his way to the house. Leaning back against the oak, Luke decided to wait. Truly, he did. But seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, and restlessness surged his body, demanding that he move, do something, _anything._ He couldn't just sit like a good little boy while Damian risked his life, and while Winston had Noah, _Noah,_ captured and possibly hurt within sight.

Straining his vision, Luke could see Damian's hair glimmering in the darkness, barely visible against the line of trees. Whispering a quick apology for betraying Damian's trust, Luke began to weave his way through the edge of the trees, circling around the house in search of… he wasn't sure. A way in, other people, anything that could help him.

He was facing the garden when whistling reached his ears, faint as if it had traveled on the air. Luke froze, palms perspiring and breathing heavy, as he tried to locate the source of the noise. He thought he saw a shape in the distance, by the house, hunched over ever so slightly, but he couldn't truly tell.

Luke continued to stare, and continued to hear that disembodied whistling float towards him, into his ears. It was almost merry, completely out of place in the eerie surroundings. Following a rash impulse that demanded for him to find out what was going away, Luke stepped away from the cover of the trees, immediately feeling exposed, helpless.

His heartbeat thudded in his ears until he couldn't hear anything but roaring, louder than waves crashing onto a beach. Continuing forwards, Luke stubbed his toe on something metal, something hard, and nearly cursed out loud. Looking down, he saw an aluminum baseball bat, out of place on the soft grass.

Leaning down, he picked up the bat and held it steady in his hand, realizing that it was probably left on the lawn from the house's former owners. The vision of a happy couple, now dead, playing baseball with friends without a care in the world filled Luke's head, and an almost primal rage swept through his body – all directed at Winston.

The bat by his side, Luke trekked forwards, following the whistling until he could see that the hunched shape _was_ a person, a person who was shovelling dirt onto a shallow hole in the ground. _Not a hole… a grave,_ Luke realized, cold flooding him as he realized what he'd just thought. _A grave. A grave. For N-_, his thoughts cut off, refusing to even contemplate it.

He must've gasped, because he saw Winston's shoulders stiffen through the camouflage material he was wearing. He made the slightest motion, and Luke had the bat over his head and was swinging down before he even realized it, aiming for the back of Winston's head.

At the last second, the implications of what he was doing hit him, and he slowed his blow ever so slightly, Still, the bat rang as it crashed into Winston's head, almost drowning out the crunching noise of bone meeting aluminum. Almost.

Winston dropped immediately, hitting the dirt with a soft thump. Shaking, Luke dropped the bat, seeing the slightest hint of red blood on the silver surface. He dropped to his knees, something in him needing to check Winston's pulse, needing to know if he had killed. A steady beat beneath his fingers assured him that the man was still alive; Luke didn't know how he should feel. A quick look at his face, however, showed Luke that the force of the blow had knocked him unconscious, at least for the time being.

Luke stood up and was about to leave when he caught a glimpse of skin peeking out from the ground. _The grave._ The bat fell from his grasp, and Luke dropped to his knees so quickly that they stung on the impact. He clawed around the dirt until a hand was visible, the hint of an arm showing through the dirt.

Flipping the hand palm up, Luke tugged ever so slightly until a forearm was visible. Eyes scanned the skin, almost crying in relief when smooth, unblemished skin was revealed. Noah had identical scars running up the length of both forearms, a result of 'falling off his bike' as a child. Luke hadn't believed his excuse for a heartbeat, but the razor thin and faint scars were still there. And this body, this _man_, didn't have them. _It's not Noah._

Not even having it within him to feel guilty at his relief over the death of a stranger, Luke grabbed the bat again before standing up, heading into the house. Not noticing as Winston's arm twitched, icy grey eyes opening.

*

**

*

Noah's hand was steady, his trigger-finger still, his body under his complete control, a sharp contrast to his out-of-control mind. Random thoughts would flit through, distracting thoughts, and Noah would push them out of his mind only to be bombarded with another horde.

He was sitting with his back curved the wall adjacent to the door, knees drawn up with elbow and forearm resting against them. The gun was in his hand, aimed at the door. Noah had calculated Winston's height and the swing of the door, and his gun was aimed precisely where Winston's heart would be. _A kill shot._

Noah repressed the urge to shudder as the phrase floated through his head, knowing it would alter the trajectory of his shot. He didn't want to kill his father – god knew, he didn't want to. He hated him, but he was still his father, his only family. But he didn't have a choice. _At least this way,_ Noah had rationalized, _it'll be quick. Painless._

Painless was a state that Noah definitely wasn't in. His back was aching from both the cold stone and the awkward position, his arm was beginning to burn from being held ramrod straight and still, and his legs were cramping from being bent without reprieve. But those were just paper cuts compared to his head. It throbbed, his eyes tearing up from the overall pain of the punches and the bashing against the hard wall.

Yet Noah refused to move, refused to give himself even the briefest reprieve from the bordering painful position. He knew he couldn't be taken off guard again. Every time the thought of relaxing against the floor and taking a break crossed his mind, one word would echo through his mind until that urge was gone. _Electroshock._ Clips of people strapped to machines, writhing and screaming in agony, would flash through his mind until adrenaline pumped high, keeping him awake and alert for at least another hour.

But now his method was failing, his eyes drooping shut despite his best efforts. He could feel his pulse in the back of his head, a hard, steady beat that ricocheted pain throughout him. The desire to let it all just slip away and sleep was too strong, and Noah's breathing became more even, regular.

He was on the edge of sleep when he heard the slightest thumping coming down the stairs, someone trying to walk quietly but failing. The noise pulled at him, grabbing him and begging him to _pay attention_. Noah drearily forced his eyes open, straining his ears in an attempt to see if the noise was something conjured by his imagination, like the images of Luke he'd been seeing behind closed eyelids since Winston left.

His question was answered when he heard footsteps moving towards the door, sounding almost… hesitant. _It's not Winston,_ Noah realized, although he refused to loosen his grip on the gun, readjusting his angle instead. He didn't know if he could kill one of Winston's cronies, since that was the only person he could think of who would be coming for him. _What if they have children, a wife, parents who love them?_

Noah's hand was shaking when the door opened, and he couldn't keep his aim steady. The light bulb overhead swayed as the door opened, as if the two were connected. A shape stepped into the room, and Noah noticed the defensive position the person was in. He could make out a tint of blonde through blurred eyes, sharp cheekbones…. "Luke?" he asked, eyes blurry. Blinking harshly, he realized that no, the person wasn't Luke. "Damian?" he tried again, watching as he took another step into the room.

"Noah?" an accented voice asked, and something in Noah relaxed as he realized that it _was_ Damian. But still, he refused to loosen his grip on the gun, refused to lower it to his sides. Not until he was sure that this wasn't a trick or a ploy.

"Noah?" Damian repeated, tentatively stepping forward. "Put the gun down, it's just me." Noah was just about to follow the advice when Damian added, "It's going to be alright, son." Just like that, the gun was pointed directly at Damian's heart, and his lips parted in shock.

"You called me son," Noah blurted out, gun steady. "That's what he calls me… how do I know you're not working for him?" Noah's words were firm, but his eyes were desperate, begging Damian to give him a reason to trust him.

"I came with Luke," Damian said softly, hands by his shoulders, palm up. "Luke and I are here." Damian repeated, thinking it would reassure Noah. Instead, Noah's hand tightened almost convulsively on the gun, finger temporarily off of the trigger – not that Damian could tell from the distance.

"Luke's here?" Noah asked, horror filling him. He'd come to his father, sacrificed himself; the only thing making it bearable was the knowledge that Luke would be _safe_. And now his efforts were all for nothing. "How did he find out? Did you tell him?"

"No, I didn't," Damian replied, hidden tension and worry in his voice. "I don't know how he found out, but he's here, Noah. I promise."

"Prove it," Noah blurted suddenly, keeping the gun trained on Damian as he awkwardly made his way to his feet, leaning against the wall as his world began spinning. "Prove it to me," he repeated.

A long pause, then Damian sighed and brought his hands to his sides. "Luke told me, that if I saw you and you didn't believe that I was here to help…" Damian trailed off, wrinkles appearing in his forehead as he thought back. "He said to tell you that 'Java's been overworking you.' Does that make sense?" Damian asked, confusion tinting his voice.

Noah released his pent up breath in a slow sigh, letting the gun fall to his side. "Obviously it does," Damian chuckled, causing Noah to look up sharply. "I mean, the phrase obviously means something. Care to explain?"

Noah brought a shaky hand to the base of his head, resting it in his palm as he thought. "Sure… it's just, remember when Zac and Zo– Gia kidnapped us?" Noah asked, Damian nodding in response. "Well, it really freaked Luke out. Now I know that's in part because he'd been kidnapped before." Noah saw Damian visibly flinch, and he hastened to continue; he hadn't meant to insult the man.

"Well, Luke insisted on having a 'safe phrase', as he called it. Something that we could work into a casual conversation, to let each other know if we were in trouble, or in danger, or anything like that." Noah shrugged a shoulder as he said, "I thought it was kind of dumb at the time, but I guess he had a point. He always does."

"That's true," Damian said, "and he'll hit you over the head with his point until you realize it." The two men shared a chuckle over Damian's rather true statement, before Noah staggered forwards until he was directly under the light bulb, keeping himself upright only by bracing his hands on his knees.

"Noah, are you okay?" Damian asked, quickly correcting his question. "What's wrong?" Damian watched with a sense of awe as Noah straightened upright, holding himself as stiff as a soldier. His eyes screamed pain, and Damian saw the hints of blood flecks laced in the dark hair and on his shirt, illuminated by the weak light.

"I'm fine," Noah replied automatically, not seeing the frown that Damian sent him. "I just… I hit my head, and I felt a bit dizzy for a second." The lie hung thick in the air between them, but Damian chose to ignore it in favour of making his way over to Noah.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Damian said, standing hesitantly in front of Noah, looking as if he wasn't sure whether he should help him walk out or not. He reached a hand out, and Noah was about to clasp it when a sudden thought jumped into his mind. He jerked back, wondering how he hadn't asked before.

"Where's Winston?" he blurted out, unaware that raw fear was making his pupils expand until they swallowed deep blue.

"I don't know," Damian replied honestly, watching Noah stiffen further at the words. "He wasn't in the house – I checked. We should go while he's not here."

"And where's Luke?" Noah added, _needing_ to know that he was safe before he could process what Damian was telling him. "Is he okay?"

"I told him to wait at the edge of the forest," Damian said, not understanding why Noah's face paled, highlighting purple shadows, hints of bruises to come. "What?"

"You left Luke alone, and _expected him to stay?_" Noah asked, his voice rising. "Do you even _know_ Luke? No way in hell would he stay put!" Noah took a quick step, intending to head out the door, but lurched forwards instead, nearly falling. "And now my father's not here… oh god," he whispered, sheer will keeping him upright.

Damian had paled too, eyes darting from Noah to the door. "I'll find him," Damian said suddenly, taking in Noah's weak physical state with worry. "You stay here. You have a gun, and you can protect yourself. You won't do any good hobbling around, trying to find Luke."

Noah looked like he was about to argue when the door swung open, banging against the wall with a bang loud enough to make Noah wince as his head throbbed with the noise. Before he knew what he was doing, the gun was up, aimed level with the intruder's heart.

And there was an intruder. Noah allowed his eyes to work their way up the person's chest, travelling upwards, slowly upwards, until pained blue met with concerned brown. Noah's grip on the gun faltered, and his arm lowered ever so slightly, only to be brought back up with a snap. He couldn't relax… not until he was sure. "Luke?" he asked, his voice quavering.

"Noah, Noah baby, it's me," Luke soothed, taking slow, gentle steps towards Noah. "It's me, bubby, so please put down the gun." Noah absently looked at the gun in his hand; he'd nearly forgotten it was there. He let it drift to his side, then slowly bent down and set it by his feet. He'd barely stood upright again when a mass of limbs and blonde hair hurled itself into his arms.

Noah staggered backwards even as his arms tightened around Luke, burying his face in his hair and inhaling the pure, clean scent that was Luke. He smelled fresh and citrusy, but it was more than that; he smelled like midnight walks at Snyder pond, gentle caresses late at night, laughter and gentle teasing, sunshine… he smelled like_Luke._

Noah could've easily stayed in the embrace forever, but the fear that had been gnawing at his gut since their visit to the police station resurfaced, causing Noah to pull back, but not before he felt the splash of hot tears on his neck.

There were a million things Noah meant to say – _I love you, are you alright, I missed you._ Instead, the words that were choked from his throat were, "What are you doing here, Luke?"

A garbled noise echoed through the room, Luke's mix of a shocked laugh and disbelief, before Noah's head was cradled between Luke's hands. "Why am I here?" he echoed in disbelief, eyes shining up at him. "Noah, you stupid, _stupid_ idiot!" Unexpectedly, Luke pulled Noah in for a hard kiss, hands running through his hair. Noah winced when Luke's fingers grazed the wound at the back of his head, a motion that didn't go unnoticed by Luke.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked immediately, ghosting his hands just over Noah's body, scanning for injuries.

"Nothing," Noah replied, still staring at Luke. "God, Luke… you're here, How did you…" Noah trailed off, not sure what he wanted to ask. _How did you know? How did you get here? How are you okay, and here, and still looking so_ damned _perfect_?

"We can deal with that later," Luke said, "but I saw the DVD." Noah winced, muttering under his breath how he should've destroyed it. Luke's hands made there way back to Noah's face, urging his eyes to meet chocolate brown. "Noah, don't you _dare_ regret me coming here," he said forcefully, "just regret not telling me. Why didn't you tell me?"

Noah could hear the hurt and worry in Luke's voice, and that prompted his answer. "I couldn't let you get hurt," Noah replied simply, the last half of the statement not spoken aloud, but there nonetheless. _So I came and let myself be hurt instead._

"You _idiot_," Luke repeated in awe as he leaned forwards, catching Noah's lips with his own, so softly, so gently. Noah fiercely blinked back tears that were forming in his eyes, running his hands over Luke's body as a distraction.

"You're okay?" Noah asked when the kiss broke, concerned. At Luke's nod, he said, "Promise?" Luke laughed in response, the innocent sound odd with their bleak surroundings. Looking around, Noah realized that he hadn't asked the question, yet.

"Luke, did you see Winston?" Noah asked, noticing when the skin across Luke's face tightened, and his hand clenched into an automatic fist. "Hey, hey, hey," Noah murmured, grabbing Luke's hand and opening the fist before kissing his palm, ignoring the ugly score of red lines marking it. "What happened?"

Luke paused, inhaling deeply before rushing the words out, as if speaking them faster would lessen their blow. "I hit him over the head with a baseball bat." Luke's face was hard, remorseless, but his eyes showed a world's worth of doubt and insecurity. "I'm sorry, Noah, but I had to. He was burying… and I didn't know, and he heard me, and I…" Luke trailed off, looking at Noah beseechingly.

"It's okay," Noah whispered in response, before asking, "Is he… dead?" Despite everything that had happened, he still had to choke out the last word, hating the complicated emotions that rushed through him at the thought.

"No!" Luke yelled, causing Noah to flinch, then wince. "No," he repeated, quieter this time. "I checked; he had a pulse. He was just unconscious."

"Oh," Noah murmured, hating the relief that filled him, hating that he even felt it in the first place. "So, you tied him up?"

Luke looked at his feet, refusing to meet Noah's eyes. "No, I didn't." At Noah's shocked expression, he continued. "I checked – he was out cold. And I knew you were in here, somewhere, and I just _had_ to come find you. He'll be out for a while; don't worry."

Worrying was exactly what Noah was doing. For the first time he noticed Damian, standing awkwardly in the corner, alternating between watching Luke and Noah and staring at the opposite wall.

"Luke, Damian," Noah said tersely, "we need to get out of here. Now."

"Why?" Luke asked, realizing how stupid the question sounded out loud. "I mean, obviously we have to get out of here soon," Luke corrected, "but what's the sudden urgency?"

"Winston has a medica–" Noah's sentence cut off as he swayed on his feet, hand resting on Luke's shoulder to keep him upright. "He has a medical condition," Noah continued after a moment, "and he doesn't feel pain. Barely. It's one of the reasons he made such a good soldier, and was so…" Noah trailed off, not sure how to continue. _So cruel, so remorseless, so violent?_ "So harsh with physical punishment," Noah continued, avoiding the swift glance Luke gave him. "He never understood why pain would hurt, why a belt's crack would make me cry out, why…" Realizing he was rambling, Noah shut his mouth plaintively.

"What does that matter?" Luke asked, tiredness and frustration slowing his brain.

"It means," Damian said, walking over to them with an urgency in his motions, "that you hitting him over the head isn't going to keep him down for long. Right?" Noah nodded in agreement, and Luke paled, immediately blaming himself.

"I'm sorry," he moaned, hand clenching once again. "I should've.,.."

"Should've what?" Noah asked. "Should've known? How could you've known? I've never mentioned it." At Luke's doubtful gaze, Noah decided to let the subject drop. "Come on, we've got to go, before he comes down here."

"It's too late for that," a voice echoed from the doorway. The three men turned around, Noah shoving Luke behind him in a desperate attempt to protect him. Damian stood slightly to the left of them, looking down the barrel of Winston's gun with an almost indifferent look.

"Now," Winston asked, "which one of you would like to die first?" The words sounded like those of a B-list horror movie, but they still sent shards of fear straight into Noah's heart. He felt Luke's breath puffing on the back of his neck, and could hear his breathing, hitching and uneven.

Noah opened his mouth to speak, but found the words frozen in his throat. He wasn't scared for himself; not really. Part of him had already resigned himself to the fact that he could die down here, in this hell hole. But Luke was here, _Luke_ was in danger and Noah couldn't cope with that.

Luckily for Noah, a different voice spoke into the silence, relieving him from his duty to speak. "Now, Colonel, don't be rash," Damian said in what he believed to be a placating voice. Noah winced as soon as the words were said; Winston _did not_ appreciate being talked down to.

Just like Noah had predicted, Winston took a step forwards, an angry sneer twisting his features and marring his face. "I really don't think you should be giving advice, Grimaldi," Winston said, arrogantly gesturing at the gun, "not when you're staring down the barrel of a gun."

"I'm not scared," Damian said, and to some degree, it was true. Noah could see from the way he stood, from the way that he talked, that he was calm – confident, even._Maybe staring down the barrel of a gun enough times decreases your fear of it._ He hoped he never had to find out.

"Well then," Winston said, drawing out his words, obviously enjoying the power rush, "how about I dispatch you first?" The gun shifted its aim from Noah to Damian, pointing at Damian's head. "It'll be quick," Winston said, and Noah couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure Damian or torment him. "Unlike that deviant son of yours," Winston continued, a mad smile lighting his face, "he's going to be alive for a very, _very_ long time before I kill him."

Noah could _feel_ Luke begin to tremble behind him. Slowly, as to not draw Winston's attention, he reached a hand behind him and linked it with Luke's, automatically stroking a thumb over the back of his hand.

Damian stepped forward, a cuss word dying in his throat as Winston jerked the gun again. "Shut up, Damian," Winston said, "you wouldn't want to irritate me right now. No, you wouldn't." Winston's taunting caused him to temporarily change the aim on the gun, and Damian lunged forwards.

Everything happened so damn quickly that Noah could do nothing but watch helplessly. A loud crack boomed through the room, and a bullet whipped just centimetres by Damian's head, drilling into the walls; a warning shot. Damian staggered for the slightest second before lunging forwards again, moving to attack Winston.

He was within feet of Winston when a rush of people stormed through the door, the echoes of "Oakdale PD!" almost as loud as the gunshot, echoed with a woman's cry of "Luke! Noah!" In the time it took Noah to blink, there were officers everywhere, led by Jack Snyder, Dallas Griffin at his side.

Guns were everywhere, people were everywhere, _noise_ was everywhere… Noah stepped back into Luke, both shielding his lover and drawing strength from the warmth of Luke behind him.

The noise faded into silence almost as quickly as it had risen, and soon only one voice could be heard; the hard tones of Detective Jack Snyder.

"Put down the gun, Winston," he said, his gun trained on Winston's head. "Don't give me a reason to shoot you – god knows I already have enough motivation." Jack's gun was quickly joined by Dallas's, and another nameless officer's. "I know you're not a stupid man, Winston," he continued, "and if you put that gun down, we can work something out. If you don't, well…" Jack's voice trailed off, the threat clear.

Winston's eyes trailed the ground before realigning with Jack's, the slightest hint of victory in them before he dropped the gun and kicked it over to the police. _No, not victory_, Jack tried to convince himself, more shaken then he'd like to admit. He motioned for the police to move in, but Winston staggered to the right and collapsed, hitting the floor with a sickening _crack_.

*

**

*

Winston gritted his teeth against the cement floor, waiting for the right moment. Waiting, always waiting. He disgusted himself that he was playing possum, but he knew that it was necessary. Just as going in hiding had been necessary, just as _everything_ had been necessary.

He was pretty sure that his fall had cracked a rib, but he couldn't feel it. It ached dully, but no more than a slight toothache would. He nearly snorted as he remembered being told as a child that he had a medical condition. A problem. _No,_ he thought, the hand under his stomach wrapping around cold metal. _I was marked, to cleanse this world. Pain is weakness, and I am not weak. Never weak. Not like_ Noah.

His son's name was all the motivation he needed to continue to lie still on the cold floor. He'd hoped, _truly_ hoped, that Noah would come to his senses, realize that this life of perversity, of _deviancy_, was not for him. Instead, he had betrayed his blood, betrayed _him_, and turned his back on what was _right_.

All of Winston's thoughts raced through his head within microseconds, in the short time in which the police were motionless, shocked. Knowing his time was limited, Winston slit his eye open and saw a blonde head to his right, within shooting range. Before anyone could blink, he smoothly lifted himself onto his side, bracing his weight on his elbow as he extended his other arm and fired off a shot, satisfaction coloring his face as he saw the shot sink into that chest, deep red quickly blooming through the t-shirt. _Kill shot,_ he knew, almost instinctively.

_That's what you get, Noah, for not keeping your weapon on you._ Winston thought, the gun that Noah had brought in firmly in hand. Of course he'd known about the gun - the hiding place, the constant glances at it, had been more than enough evidence to convince Winston that Noah had been armed. He hadn't been worried, though; he knew his chicken-shit of a son was too cowardly to use it. _And I was right._

Hands flipped him over, roughly cuffing his hands behind his back before hauling him upright. A low hiss of "you _bastard!_" played in his ear, but Winston didn't care. He heard exclamations of horrors, his own son cry out in shock, and he knew that no matter what happened to him, he could be content. He'd done his purpose.

**---**

**Sorry for the cliffhanger (again!), and please review! It really keeps me motivated**


	27. Chapter TwentySix

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – I hope you enjoy! There's a few chapters left, then an epilogue; thanks to all of you that have been sticking with me!**

**--**

Noah blinked once, sluggishly, the only motion he could force from his body. When the blink did nothing, he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them, this would all go away. Instead, red flashes played behind his eyelids – red as in blood, red as in death. Death. Dead.

Eyes flying open, Noah dropped to his knees on the stone floor, not even having it within him to wince as his knees smashed against the concrete floor. He crawled over to the person on the floor, crimson blood soaking through fabric and pooling on the ground, morbid color in this lifeless room.

"No," he whispered, eyes travelling over still limbs, hearing only gurgling in his chest as he struggled for breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered, one hand reaching in front of him tentatively, touching air, not skin.

"It's not your fault," a voice whispered behind him, and Noah turned to see brown eyes shining at him, full lips trembling. One hand was resting on his shoulder, and Noah forced himself upright so he could look straight into those eyes.

"Luke," Noah breathed, glancing over at the paramedics working frantically on Damian, all the while knowing it was a lost cause. "Luke," he repeated before pulling him into his arms, trembling so hard that Luke was shaking, too.

"Shh," Noah heard Luke whisper in his ear, "you're safe. We're safe. It's okay, Noah." The reassurances continued until Noah pulled back, all chalky pale skin and wide, young eyes.

"It _is_ my fault, Luke!" Noah yelled, unaware of the eyes that were suddenly following him. "He's going to _die_ because of me, and… and…" Noah's sentence faded out as his eyes morphed into blue fire, cold and yet hotter then anyone could bear to touch.

"Noah?" Luke asked, refusing to admit that the beginnings of fear were thrumming through him. Not of Noah, but of what Noah was going to do. His face was utterly expressionless, except for the hint of _something_ in his eyes. "Noah?" Luke repeated, stepping forwards, only to have Noah step away.

"This is his fault," Noah whispered, turning on his heel and scanning the room, zeroing in on a shock of grey hair. Winston was standing in the corner of the room, two officers on either side of him, and a gun pointed steadily at his chest. Despite everything, he looked as arrogant as he always was, even pleased.

Noah was hardly aware of the steps he took, was hardly aware of the widening of his fathers eyes as he swung his arm back. The sudden pain that throbbed through his arm as his fist smashed into Winston's face was a shock back into reality.

Blood was pouring from Winston's nose, clearly broken, but that self assured smirk never faded. Staring at his father, Noah realized that he felt no joy as he watched his father bleed from a wound that he made. Instead, his stomach rolled, and he turned his back to Winston before he could read his expression.

_Damian._ The name was cold water dousing his brain, and Noah looked over to see Damian lying still on the floor, his eyes fluttering as he tried to stay conscious. There was an impossible amount of blood on the floor. _He's not going to make it._ Noah pushed the thought back as soon as it entered his mind, but he couldn't erase the imprint it had made.

Luke was kneeling by Damian, his hand on top of his fathers. Even though Noah knew that there was no lost love from Luke to Damian, his boyfriend's eyes were filled with tears, poised and ready to fall.

Noah carefully wrapped an arm around Luke, revelling in his warmth as Luke leaned into him. His eyes were locked on Damian, who had opened one eye in a half lidded gaze, his light blue eyes clouded and pained.

"Damian," Noah heard Luke whisper, and saw the muscles in Luke's arm tense as he gripped Damian's hand tighter. "I didn't know this would happen…" Noah watched helplessly, afraid to speak, afraid to move.

Damian smiled, the tips of his lips turning the slightest hint upwards, before he mouthed four words. Closing his eyes, he took in one last rattling breath before his chest went still.

"No, no no no no no," Luke murmured, laying on hand on Damian's cheek. "Damian, please don't die," he whispered, his voice catching. "I never got to tell you that I, I know you weren't here to hurt me, and I didn't want you to die, and _don't die!_" Luke hovered anxiously, as if he expected Damian to jump back up, smile and laugh. But he didn't.

Luke took a deep breath, pressing the heel of his hands to his eyes and sitting there before turning to Noah. He held Noah's gaze for a long moment before collapsing into his arms, sobbing.

Noah simply held him, not talking, just breathing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Luke was still clutching Damian's hand, his knuckles turning white from his grip.

Noah had no idea how long they kneeled there. Time was measured only with the steady throbbing in his head, increasing in intensity with every second that passed. People moved around them, but Noah took no notice; all of his attention was on the broken soul in his arms.

Someone, a woman, tried to make Luke let go of Damian's hand. He snapped, and something in his eyes convinced the woman to leave Luke alone, just for another moment.

Noah's concentration was shattered when he heard a woman's piercing scream, and saw a brunette running towards Damian before dropping to her knees. A man was following her, a man with light brown hair and eyes that scanned the room frantically before locking in on Luke and Noah. _Lily and Holden,_ Noah thought, unaware of the pulse of relief that floated through him. _We're safe._

With that, Noah released Luke from his embrace before fainting dead away on the cold stone floor.

---

_Flashing lights. He was strapped down, and he could feel the slightest jostles of his bed.__A stretcher.__Voices floated above him, medical terms and concerned cries of his name blending into one indiscernible mess. Cool wind brushed his cheeks, and with thoughts of his first time horseback riding at the farm on his mind, he allowed the tide to pull him back under._

_The bed was soft, his pillow warm. He cracked an eye open, only to shut it as glaring white pierced into his brain. He tried to roll over, but stopped as a sharp wave of agony pulsed through his head. He knew something was off, that something was wrong; it was tickling the back of his head, begging him to listen to it, and to_ think.

_He pushed it away, shutting his eyes and falling back into a listless sleep. It could wait. It could all wait. A foggy, muffled voice whispered, "Noah, stay with me stay with me stay with me stay with me…" in his ear. He wanted to assure that voice that he was okay, that he was just a little sleepy and needed a moment to rest, but he couldn't. All he could do was shut his eyes and fall downwards into soothing blackness._

---

"Noah, please wake up. The doctors said that this is normal, that after everything it's normal to sleep this long, but please wake up. I need you, Noah. _Please._"

Noah moaned, trying to tell the voice that he was okay, that he was coming back. The same words had been murmured in his ear for what seemed like eternity, and he wanted desperately to reply.

"Noah?" the voice asked, hope riding out the despair in its tone. "Noah, Noah baby, come on. It's me, it's Luke, wake up baby, wake up. I know that was you, please please please, baby, I need you. Come back to me. Please."

He wasn't sure if it was being called baby, or the begging, that forced him to crack his eyes open. His vision was immediately filled with soft brown eyes, filled with tears. The sight seemed familiar, as if he'd recently seen the same thing, but grasping the memory was like trying to hold onto water; the harder he gripped, the quicker it slid away.

"Noah," Luke breathed, a tear sliding down his cheek and onto Noah's pillow. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, okay?" Luke's teasing tone was lost to the sob that tore from his throat. Noah tried to reply, but his throat was so dry that he could only make a faint noise. Blushing at his incoherency, he pointed at his throat in excuse.

"Oh, you're thirsty!" Luke said too loudly, a cover for his tears, and Noah repressed the urge to wince away from the noise. "Here," Luke said, quieter, passing Noah a small paper cup of water. He held the cup to Noah's lips and cradled his head with his hand, supporting it as Noah drank.

His throat soothed, Noah whispered Luke's name. A heart-stopping smile broke out across Luke's face; even so, there was a tinge of sadness to it, something Noah desperately wanted to remember. _Damian_, Noah remembered with sudden clarity, _it has to do with Damian._

Before he could ask, the door creaked open, and Holden entered the room. Glancing around, Noah realised that Lily was asleep on a chair in the room, her neck angled awkwardly to the side in her slumber.

Noah's eyes flicked back to Holden as he realized that the man was directly in front of him. He tried to smile, but was pretty sure that it came out as a grimace instead.

"Noah," Holden whispered, one hand running through Noah's hair before resting on his shoulder. "Don't you ever, ever, _ever_ run off like that again. I don't think any of us could take that scare again!" Holden's teasing tone fell as flat as Luke's had, and sadness lingered instead.

"Sorry," Noah replied, eyes angling downwards as a flush spread through his cheeks. "I didn't think… I mean, I didn't realize…"

"Noah, it's okay," Holden soothed, his hand squeezing lightly on Noah's shoulder. "Just promise you'll never do it again, okay?" Noah nodded his head once in response, and Holden smiled before walking over to Lily and reaching out.

"Don't wake her up!" Noah said, raising his voice as loud as it would go – which, admittedly, wasn't that loud. When Holden looked at him curiously, he ducked his head. "She just looks tired… I'm sure she wants to sleep."

"Noah," Holden said, an unidentifiable expression on his face, "she'd want us to wake her up. Hell, she'd kill me if I didn't." With that, Holden gently shook Lily's shoulder, watching as she blearily opened her eyes. A moment passed, and then she jumped out of her chair, asking Holden questions rapid fire.

"Shh, Lily, he's awake," Holden said, jerking his head in Noah's direction. He opened his mouth to say more, but Lily was already at Noah's side, bloodshot and reddened eyes tearing up yet again.

Noah, thank god you're alright," Lily said before she kissed his forehead. Her hair brushed his nose, and Noah breathed in her familiar scent, wanting to cherish this moment; having a mother fuss over him.

Looking into Lily's warm eyes, Noah croaked out, "What happened?" A confused expression flitted across his face as Lily's face crumpled, her eyes overfilling with tears. Holden immediately wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into his chest.

Turning his head to the left, he saw Luke's eyes shining and an indent in his cheek, as if he was biting the inside of it. "What happened?" Noah repeated, grabbing Luke's hand as he asked the question and running his thumb back and forth.

"What do you remember?" Luke asked, eyes scanning Noah's face. "Do you remember anything?" After glancing over at Lily and Holden one last time, Noah screwed his eyes up in concentration, thinking back.

"I remember…" he began, eyes still shut. "I remember my father… I went to see my father, right?" Opening his eyes, Noah saw Luke nod absently once in agreement. "And then… then you showed up." Noah felt his brow draw in confusion, trying to put the pieces together. "I was dizzy, really dizzy," he remembered absentmindedly, before something snapped into place, so hard that he was ricocheting in the aftermath. "Damian." Looking up, Luke's face showed Noah that what he remembered was the truth. "Is he..."

Luke made some low noise of affirmation, and Noah felt his throat tighten in response. He hadn't known Damian, not truly, but the brief time he'd spent with him as they drove to Winston had proven to him that despite everything, he loved his son; anyone that loved Luke had to have some good in them.

Low sobbing echoed through the room, and Noah realized that Lily was crying, her cries muffled in Holden's shirt. _Damian was her ex-husband,_ Noah remembered, _she must still care for him, to some degree._

"I'm sorry, Luke," Noah said before falling silent; unsure of what else to say. "If I'd known…"

Luke turned and looked at Noah for a long moment before leaning in and kissing him. Noah pulled back after a quick moment, feeling awkward with Lily and Holden in the same room. He barely had time to register the fact that they were leaving, Lily still sobbing, when Luke pulled Noah's face back up to meet his.

Noah ignored the steady throbbing the position caused his head, choosing to kiss Luke back instead. The kiss started out harsh, tongue and teeth and tears mixing together, clinking off one another, but quickly turned softer, sweeter. Noah reached up and allowed one hand to sift through Luke's hair, ignoring the dirt strung within it.

When Luke pulled back, panting heavily, Noah reached a weary arm up and wiped a tear track away from his face. He left his hand on Luke's cheek, his palm tingling where Luke leaned his face into it.

"Lay with me," Noah said before he even thought about it. He scooted over, patting the area on the bed beside him. Luke stared at him for another long moment before crawling in beside him and cuddling his side. The room on the bed was cramped, but Noah wouldn't give it up for the world.

He dropped a careful kiss into Luke's hair before whispering, "What am I doing here?" The question caused Luke to look up in confusion, so Noah elaborated, "I mean, what am I doing in a hospital? Why can't I remember what happened after Damian…"

"Oh my god! I forgot to tell you!" Luke bolted upright, causing the bed to shake on its wheels. "Shit, sorry," Luke said when Noah winced, the familiar pounding in his head being joined with a sudden ache in his abdomen.

"It's fine," Noah replied absently, looking back up at Luke. "What am I doing here?" he repeated, needing to know.

"You have a concussion," Luke said, looking at a spot on the pillow over Noah's shoulder. "When my parents came in… you just fainted." Luke's gaze moved from the pillow to Noah's face, travelling over every inch of skin. "God, Noah, you just… I thought you were…"

"I'm not," Noah reassured, bringing Luke's hand to rest over his heart. The move seemed clichéd, but the moment he did it, he saw a little bit of relief enter Luke's expression. "I'm here, and I'm okay." Noah's heart beat steadily under Luke's palm, a testament to that fact.

"I love you," Luke said helplessly, as if there was nothing else to say. He leaned forwards again, kissing Noah's lips with a vulnerability that ached  
throughout Noah. Noah shut his eyes, just resting his lips on Luke's, breathing in his scent.

When Luke pulled back, Noah felt his eyelids sliding shut despite himself. "Luke…" he heard himself say, almost out of his own volition, "why does my stomach hurt?" Luke whispered a reply, something about ribs and fractures, but Noah didn't hear it, lost to the intoxicating lull of sleep.

*

*

Luke kissed Noah's forehead before quietly rolling off of the bed and making his way to the door. He glanced back, fighting the urge telling him to stay beside Noah and never let him leave again. Before he could loose his urge, Luke opened the door and stepped into the hallway, letting it click shut behind him.

He glanced down the hallway, unsurprised when he saw his parents standing side-by-side, talking to a doctor dressed in green scrubs. Luke made his way to them, stopping a couple of feet away.

"Luke!" Lily yelled before giving him a bone crushing hug; seemingly the hundredth of that day. She'd been a hysterical, crying mess after Noah had fallen unconscious, screaming and demanding to be with him. Holden had held her back, insisting that she had to let the doctors do their job, although one look in his eyes showed that he was barely resisting the same impulses.

Luke shivered, remembering his own confusion as the paramedics tried to take Noah away, demanding to know what was going on. He'd threatened one doctor – a blush rose to his cheeks as he thought back – to no avail. But Noah was alright. _That's all that matters._

"I'm okay mom," Luke said, reluctantly pulling back from her embrace. Despite his words, being in his mother's arms felt good. It felt like he was young again, back when his parents could fix anything… or so he thought. Now he had to deal with reality, the real world; sometimes he wished his parents were the almighty gods he thought they had been in his youth.

"Are you talking about Noah?" Luke asked abruptly, already knowing the answer. "What are you saying?"

Holden answered, one hand resting on Luke's shoulder. "We were just talking about when he can be discharged," he said, his face serious. "The doctors want to keep him overnight for observation, but he can leave tomorrow as long as he promises to take it easy."

"He won't be able to move," Luke chuckled, unable to help himself. "Grandma Emma won't let him move a muscle, Faith and Natalie will be babying him until he wants to scream, and I sure as hell won't let him do anything." Holden smiled as he imagined ever-polite Noah being coddled to death on their living room couch.

The doctor cleared his throat, and relayed some quick instructions to Holden, Lily and Luke before nodding and departing. As soon as he was gone, Luke led his parents over to the waiting room and sat them down on the chairs. He desperately wanted to go back to Noah, but there were some things he had to take care of first.

"Mom, Dad?" he said once their attention was solely on him. "I was wondering… how did you know where we were?" The question was one that had been nagging at him as soon as they'd gotten Noah to the hospital. He'd meant to ask them earlier, but with everything that had been going on… there hadn't been time.

Lily laughed, and Luke looked up in surprise. "Oh honey," she said, her tone lighter than it had been all day, "I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet!" Luke tensed, and Lily quickly rubbed his knee in a soothing effort.

"Remember what happened the last time you were kidnapped?" Lily asked, and Luke had to stifle his surprise at the words. _The last time you were kidnapped._ How many people got to say that about themselves?

"Yeah," Luke replied, escaping his musings.

"Well, your cell phones have a GPS option on them," Lily explained, looking almost bashful. "Your father and I… we decided it would be best to get them on all of our cell phones. Yours, Noah's, Faith's, his and mine." One look at Holden showed that Lily was speaking the truth; he was nodding with her, looking gravely into Luke's eyes.

"We never had them activated," Lily explained quickly, "we just had the software installed on your phones so we could find you in case of an emergency. It's not like we've been following you around or anything."

"How did you get it on Noah's phone?" Luke asked, "I mean, wouldn't he have to know?"

"We asked him if we could," Holden answered for Lily, "and he didn't mind. We just wanted you guys to be safe, in case…" _In case this happened._

"Oh," Luke replied, waiting for anger or injustice to well up within him at being kept in the dark, or for having his privacy violated. He waited, and… nothing. His parents had been right, and they'd saved Noah's life because of it. How could he be mad? "Thanks," he added, seeing both his parents eyes widen in surprise.

"You don't ever have to thank us," Lily said, reaching up and cupping Luke's cheek. Luke smiled in response before pulling both of his parents to him in a hug. _God, I'm so lucky,_ he realized, _my family's here, and Noah's father is… wait, where is he?_

"Winston's in jail, right?" Luke asked as soon as they pulled away. Lily's jaw clenched at the name, and Holden's eyes darkened until a steely blue-grey was all that was left.

"Mmhmm, the bastard's where he belongs," he growled, and for once Lily didn't admonish him for his language. "Why?"

"I just, I needed to know," Luke said in way of response, and Holden left it at that. "How's Dallas?" he asked, before adding, "and the rest of the family? What do they know? Who all knows?"

"Whoa, easy there Luke," Holden teased, the steel in his eyes slowly melting away. "Dallas is fine; he's at the station right now, dealing with _him_." Holden's change in tone left no doubt in Luke's mind that 'him' was synonymous with Winston. "Only Faith, Mama and Jack know what's happened… well, maybe Janet, if he's told her what's going on," Holden added. "Faith's at Lucinda's now; she fought tooth and nail to come, but we wanted to make sure Noah was alright, first. Do you think he'd mind if she visited?"

"Are you kidding me?" Luke asked, laughing slightly. "He loves her to death." _To death_. Luke's laugh faded as he realized how close they'd both come to death that night. A million scenarios had ran through his head, a million different ways that the night could've ended; Winston firing that gun instead of taunting them, never finding Noah, Noah dying, Damian dying, Damian dead… it swirled in his head until he couldn't take it.

"Luke," Holden said, shaking his shoulder. "Luke, you okay?" Luke blinked back his teary eyes, running a hand at the back of his neck.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he reassured, knowing that his dad wouldn't buy it for a second. "I'm just tired." The excuse was laughable, but Holden let it slide, patting Luke's shoulder once more before turning to Lily and kissing her forehead.

"We'll go get Faith and Natalie from your grandmother, and bring them here," Lily said, looking like she wanted nothing more than to stay at the hospital with Luke. "We'll be back within an hour. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine, mom. It's fine, go!" Luke said, teasing lightly. He hugged her (again) before watching them walk out the door. Heading back to Noah's room, Luke forced all thoughts of what had happened to the back of his mind, knowing that he didn't have time to dwell on it now.

Opening the door, he saw Noah sleeping on his back, elbow crooked and one hand over his head on the top of his pillow. His lean form showed through the blankets, and Luke could see where his leg was bent. _Just like it always is._

Silently walking over, Luke crawled back into bed with him, smiling as Noah curled towards him. He kissed his cheek before resting his head on Noah's shoulder, allowing himself to fall into a hazy sleep.

--

**Reviews mean the world to me! **


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.**

***Notes – Once again, I apologize for how long this chapter took. Blame a very, very hectic life. But I hope you enjoy!**

**-**

**-**

**-**

"Here, Noah, let me get that for you."

"Noah sweetie, sit back down! I can manage this."

"What are you doing down here, Noah? Go back to bed!"

"No-ah! Sit down! You know Grandma Emma will freak out if she sees you cleaning!"

*

*

Noah flipped onto his stomach on his bed, resting his chest on a pillow as he absently watched the movie playing on the TV in front of him. He sighed heavily, unable to bring himself to even critique the movie. He cast a lingering glance at the door, wondering if anyone would notice if he snuck out for an hour or two.

The Snyder's had been fussing over him from the moment that he had left the hospital; hell, they'd been fussing over him _in_ the hospital. A vague smile twitched his lips as he remembered the disaster checking out of the hospital had been.

*

*

"Are you sure you feel like you can come home, Noah?" Lily asked, her hazel eyes wide in concern. "And," she added as she turned on the doctor, "are you sure that it's completely safe for him to leave the hospital?"

"Yes, Mrs. Snyder, I'm sure," the doctor responded with an imperceptible weariness that came from answering the same question dozens of times within a short period of time. "Just make sure that he-"

"Get's plenty of rest, doesn't overexert himself, avoids strenuous activities, and takes it easy," Luke rattled off, his fingers unconsciously entwining with Noah's. "Right?"

"Right," the doctor replied, looking as if he wondered why he even bothered asking the question in the first place. "Now, Noah…" the doctor began, only to be cut off once again as Lucinda whirled in through the front doors, making a beeline for Noah.

"Darling!" she greeted, standing up on her tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "How are you doing?"

Noah smiled ruefully back up at her before saying, "The exact same as I was yesterday when you asked." Lucinda, Natalie and Faith had all visited the night before, with mixed results. Natalie had been dying to tell Noah about every single thing that had happened in his very brief absence; Lucinda had scolded him until his ears burned before making him promise to never run off again; Faith had yelled at him and tried to storm out, but Noah had grabbed her and held her as she cried out her fear.

"Noah, you in there?" A voice cut into Noah's thoughts, and he looked up to see Luke's concerned eyes examining him. "Are you sure you don't want the wheel-"

"No!" Noah yelled, wincing at how loud his voice was. "I mean… I don't need it. I promise." The doctor's had fought to make him leave the hospital in a wheelchair, as per protocol, but Noah had vehemently protested. Eventually, both Noah's reluctance and Lucinda's intervention on his behalf had allowed for Noah to leave on his own two feet.

"I was… I was just thinking," Noah added when he saw Luke's face fall. "I'm fine though, I promise." He smiled, albeit half-heartedly, hoping Luke would believe him.

"Noah, you're not _fine_," Lily unexpectedly jumped in, her loose hair falling around her face. "You have a grade three concussion, two fractured ribs, and more bruises than I can count. You better not be saying you're fine until you actually _are fine_, okay?" The warmth in her eyes softened her lecture, and she patted his cheek before turning to the doctor.

"Am I allowed to continue?" the doctor muttered under his breath before continuing. "I mean, you're free to leave, Mr. Mayer."

"Thank you," Noah replied, watching as the doctor walked off, perhaps faster than needs be. "I think we were going to drive him crazy!" Noah commented, flushing when the rest of the Snyder's chuckled around him.

"Well, what can I say?" Holden said, bumping his shoulder lightly with Noah's. "We're very protective of our own." A wide grin threatened to split Noah's face, even as he looked down at his shoes. For the first time, he didn't feel like he needed to refute Holden's words. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that there had been at least two Snyder's with him at all times during his hospital stay; besides Luke, of course.

He'd protested, said he'd be fine on his own, but no one would hear of it. Lucinda, at one point, had memorably told him to "be quiet and accept that we're staying, or I'll get the nurse to give you something to make you accept that." Not sure if she was joking, Noah had quickly quieted his protests.

Jack Snyder and Dallas Griffin had both shown up during Noah's hospital stay as well. They were both on 'official police business', as Jack put it, but there had been an element of a social call to it, as well. Dallas had explained how they had located him via GPS, and Noah couldn't believe that he'd forgotten to leave his phone. _Maybe part of you wanted to leave a way to be found, in case the Snyder's wanted you back,_ some part of him whispered.

They'd also informed him that his father was being held in a top security cell at the Oakdale Police Station, waiting to be transferred to a higher security prison out of town within a few days. Jack also mentioned that Winston had been requesting to see Noah ever since he'd been arrested; the rush of incredulity that had swamped Noah had taken his breath away.

Someone squeezed his hand, and Noah shook himself from his thoughts. Looking down, he saw that Luke had brought their entwined hands up to his mouth, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Noah's hand, their eyes locked the entire time. The gentle touch of lips to skin still sent shivers down Noah's spine.

"You okay?" he mouthed, tugging Noah ever-so-gently towards the entrance. Noah flushed, wondering how long he'd been standing in the middle of the hospital foyer, lost in thought. Thankfully, none of the Snyder's had called attention to it.

Noah started to nod weakly, but stilled his movements at Luke's doubtful gaze. He instead shrugged one shoulder the slightest bit upwards, and pulled Luke closer, so he could feel Luke's warmth beside him. Part of him wanted to sling an arm around Luke's shoulder, but he knew his ribs wouldn't forgive him if he did so.

"How about you?" Noah whispered into Luke's hair, inhaling the clean scent that was his boyfriend – a scent he hadn't been sure he'd ever be able to smell again. A wave of love swept over him, nearly strong enough to cause his knees to buckle. Part of him ached to hold Luke, ached with a physical thing. Instead, he contented himself by knowing that he had the rest of his life to hold Luke; love him, cherish him.

Luke shrugged as an answer to Noah's question, mimicking Noah's previous movement. "Hey," Noah asked, suddenly remembering, "did you end up visiting Eric?" Noah saw Luke stiffen for a brief moment before nodding once, leaning into Noah as they walked. His ribs protested, but Noah ignored them.

"How is he?" Noah asked, not sure why he cared. Maybe it was because he felt guilty. Maybe it was because Eric had risked everything for his child, something he knew Winston never would've done. Or maybe it was just because despite everything, Noah could understand why Eric had done what he had. If it had been the same situation with Luke, or any of the Snyder's… well, Noah couldn't say that he wouldn't have acted differently, to save his family. _My family._

"He's surviving," Luke said, before elaborating. "It was close. I don't think that Winston had expected anyone to find him so quickly. He shot to wound… I think he was expecting for Eric to bleed out." Noah felt the blood drain out of his face as he nodded. "Hey, hey hey hey," Luke whispered, "it's not your fault. Don't feel guilty."

"How's his daughter… Sarah?" Noah asked, changing the subject. "Do you know?" An unexpected smile touched Luke's face, transforming his weary expression.

"Oh, Noah, she's adorable," Luke crooned, smiling up into blue eyes. "She was playing in the hallway with a nurse when I was heading into his room. She told me that if I was visiting her daddy, I had to be careful because he was sick and she 'wouldn't let me make him even more sick, because that would be bad.'" Luke imitated a high pitched girl's voice, and Noah couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of his throat.

"What did you say to that?" Noah asked, imagining Luke's reaction to being lectured. _Then again, he's probably used to it, considering what a powerhouse Natalie can be._

"I told her that I would be extra careful, because I wouldn't want her daddy to get any sicker," Luke replied, "and I think she believed me."

"Of course she did," Noah smiled, "who could resist you?"

"Obviously not you," Luke teased before kissing Noah's cheek. "Hey… shouldn't we probably leave, now?" Noah looked around in surprise. They were in the parking lot, standing outside Noah's truck; someone had brought it to the hospital during Noah's stay. The other Snyder's were long gone – Noah had been so wrapped up in his conversation with Luke, he hadn't noticed that they'd stopped walking, let alone that the other Snyder's had left.

"Yeah," Noah replied, reluctantly breaking away from Luke and opening his truck door.

"What are you doing?" Luke said, his voice unexpectedly high-pitched. Noah stopped abruptly, looking at the hand that was resting on the door on the driver's side as if it had done something without him knowing.

"Umm.. I'm getting into my truck?" Noah asked, part sarcastic and part confused. At Luke's shocked and sceptical gazes, Noah asked, "What?"

"You think _you're_ driving?" Luke asked, incredulous. "When you're all battered up? Nice try, Noah. I'm driving us home."

"Luke, I'm okay. I can drive," Noah insisted, before backtracking as he saw his boyfriend's face cloud over. "Okay, okay, maybe I'm not _completely_ fine," Noah conceded. "Fine. You can drive."

"Good," Luke replied simply. "Get your butt in this truck! By the way, mom's insisting that we spend the next week at the farm. No way is she letting you out of her sight with your injuries. Or me for that matter, after…" Luke's sentence trailed off, the other words hanging ominously in the air. _After Damian's death._

"Luke, are you okay?" Noah asked, searching his boyfriend's face and noticing the tautly pulled skin, pressed lips and shadowed eyes.

Luke's head twitched to the side in the slightest sign of a 'no', surprising Noah with his honesty, before he smiled half-heartedly and hoped into the driver's seat of the truck.

**

Noah sighed for the umpteenth time as he flicked the TV off. The car ride home had been quiet, both of them lost in thoughts, both of them hurting. Luke had tried to deny how deeply everything had affected him, choosing to throw himself into nursing Noah.

Absentmindedly, he arched his back and neck, stretching them. His body had begun to ache slightly, begging him for a workout. Whenever he was confused, or frustrated, or _anything,_ really, he'd always jog it off. He'd tried to sneak out for a run twice; the first time, Lily had marched him back to the couch and guilt tripped him. The second time, he tried sneaking out in the morning, but Emma had intercepted and refused to let him leave. Noah smiled involuntarily as he remembered what a powerhouse seemingly sweet Emma could be.

The smile faded as he remembered the first night back at the farm. He'd been allowed to sleep in the same room as Luke, since Lily wouldn't allow them to go back to their apartment.

*

*

Luke bolted upright in the middle night, wide eyed and drenched in sweat. His thrashing had already woken Noah up, and he didn't hesitate to pull Luke into his own arms. Noah's dreams had been just as dark, and he took just as much comfort in the embrace as Luke did.

"Shh, baby," Noah soothed, running his hand over damp skin. "It's okay. We're okay. It's over. Shhhhh." He slowly leaned back, gritting his teeth against the pain in his abdomen and allowing Luke to rest his head on his chest.

Reaching a free hand out, he tapped the bedside lamp once, turning it onto the dimmest setting. Feeling absurdly grateful to the touch-activated lamp, Noah turned his attention back to Luke. "Do you want to talk about it?" he whispered, fully expecting a 'no.'

Instead, Luke exhaled heavily once against Noah's skin before he spoke. "I was back in that tower in Malta," he began, "but I wasn't a kid. I was the same age that I am now. And dad wasn't with me; you were." Noah made a conscious effort not to react physically to that news, and was rewarded when Luke continued.

"We were locked in that room, and then Damian walked in. He said – he said he was going to get us out." In the dim light, Noah could see the confused expression on Luke's face. "I _knew_ he was the one responsible for us being there. I knew it. But… I trusted him. He reached out a hand, and I was going to take it…" Luke trailed off, and Noah could feel Luke's eyelashes fluttering against the skin on his chest.

"And then what?" Noah prodded, keeping his voice soft and low, never pausing his hand's motions across Luke's back.

"Winston walked in," Luke said blankly, a lack of inflection in his voice. Although Noah had been expecting it, he still shuddered; Luke ignored it, allowing it to go unnoticed. "He shot Damian," he whispered, "and he fell on me. Blood was everywhere." Noah realized the statement didn't just apply to Damian's dream-death.

"Luke, you don't have to-" Noah said softly, feeling Luke's body trembling on his own. But Luke paid him no mind.

"Then he turned the gun on you, and said that, that if it wasn't for me, you'd be fine. And then he shot us." A warm drop splashed against Noah's chest before running down towards his stomach, quickly followed by others.

"Luke, none of this is your fault," Noah murmured, trying his hardest to focus past the dream itself. "None of it."

"I know that," Luke said, surprising Noah. "I know I didn't do anything _physically_. But if it wasn't for me, you'd…"

"I'd be what, Luke?" Noah asked. "I'd be living with _him_, hating life more by the day. I'd be miserable, hiding in the closet, terrified of life. You've taught me to live, Luke. Don't regret that," Noah said fiercely. The tears on his chest fell more and more frequently, yet Luke didn't sob.

"What about Damian? And Ethan?" Luke asked suddenly, violently. "If it wasn't for me, they'd be alive! How can you say they're better off?" Luke propped himself up on his elbows so he could look into Noah's eyes. Steady streams of tears were making their way down his face. "Don't you get it, Noah? I've wrecked everything!"

"None of that was your fault," Noah whispered, pulling Luke down so that he was on top of him. "And I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe it. Okay?" With that, Luke's control snapped. He sobbed, his entire body heaving, into the warmth of Noah's shoulder.

The crying continued for minutes, hours; time ceased to be meaningful. Eventually, the torrent turned into a trickle, and Luke's heaving breaths morphed into slow, even ones. "Luke?" Noah whispered, checking if his boyfriend had fallen asleep.

"Hmm?" Luke moaned, resting in that place between consciousness and sleep. His left hand unfurled from his side, and came to rest on Noah's far shoulder. Noah felt something wet on the hand, and gently lifted it off of his skin, checking to see.

He angled Luke's hand into the light, and couldn't stop the tiny gasp from escaping him as he saw small but deep cuts in his hand, blood welling out of them.

"What?" Luke murmured, too unaware to realize what Noah had discovered.

"Luke…" Noah hesitated, unsure of what to say. "What happened?" Luke's eyes cracked open, and he seemed to finally realize what Noah had discovered. He tried to curl his hand into a fist to snatch it away, but Noah caught his hand and refused to let him move.

"Nothing happened," Luke snapped, tugging his arm back; Noah wouldn't let it move. "Noah, let _go!_" Luke said, a tinge of hysterics entering his voice.

"Luke, please," Noah whispered, letting his suffering and hurt and fear enter his voice. "Don't lock me out. Talk to me. I love you, and I'll love you no matter what. Talk to me." Luke's body was stiff, too stiff. The light was still on, and Noah could see the muscles and tendons in his arms bulging.

"I don't know," Luke whispered, three words that were undeniably the truth. "It helped, with, with everything. But it's too much, Noah. I can't stop." Luke's voice caught, and the hand Noah was still holding trembled violently.

Even as Noah's mind went blank with the shock of confirming what he already had guessed at, his instincts kicked in. He kissed the back of Luke's hand and his tugged him close, ignoring the strain it put on his ribs. "It'll be okay," Noah promised, hoping he was telling the truth. "Shhh."

They'd lied together, tangled together, until the pull of sleep was too irresistible, even to their frazzled minds.

*

*

"Noah! Supper!" Faith's voice floated up the stairs, drifting into his ears. He sat upright, realizing that at some point in his recollections, he'd fallen asleep. _Again._ Slowly shifting off the bed, he realized that someone had come up and pulled the bed cover over him and turned off the TV.

Figuring it was Luke, Noah made his way down the stairs, his face still flushed and warm from sleep. When he entered the kitchen, Natalie immediately barrelled over to him, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Noah, guess what!" she said excitedly, talking so fast that Noah could barely follow. Not waiting for an answer, she said, "I helped Grandma Emma make supper!"

Noah smiled, even as he began to wonder how long he'd been sleeping for. "You helped make supper?" he repeated, an image of Emma baking her famous apple pies in an Easy Bake oven coming to mind. "What did you make?"

"I helped make biscuits!" Natalie informed him seriously, tugging on his hand and leading him over to the counter. "Look!" Noah looked at the cooling biscuits, barely holding back his laughter as he realized that some of the biscuits were shaped as hearts, stars, and flowers.

"They look great, Nat," he said, "but I was wondering…"

"Do you wanna know where Luke is?" she asked expectantly. When Noah asked how she knew, Natalie replied, "It's obvious! You two are _always_ together." Not for the first time, Noah found himself taken back at how good she was with people.

"He's in the barn, with Shadow," Natalie answered before bidding him farewell and prancing over to Faith, who flicked her fingers at him in what Noah assumed was the teenage girl version of a wave.

Glancing over his shoulder, Noah slowly made his way over to the kitchen door. He reached out, grasped the doorknob, and started to twist it when a cry of "Noah!" echoed through the kitchen.

_Caught._ He looked up to see Lily staring at him. "Where are you going?" she asked, her eyes examining him for injuries.

"I was going to go to the barn, to see Luke," he replied, his hand still on the doorknob. He saw Lily's mouth tighten, and braced himself for what he knew was coming.

"Are you sure that's okay?" Lily asked, unaware that Holden was hovering behind her shoulder. "I mean, is it dangerous for his injuries if…"

"If he walks down to the barn?" Holden finished, a slight laugh in his words. "Lily, the barn's like a thirty second walk away. He'll be fine. Won't you, Noah?"

"I'll be fine," Noah replied, hoping his expression was convincing. Although being coddled to such an extent had been endearing (and embarrassing) at first, Noah had begun to wonder how long it was going to go on for. It had already been three days, and Lily didn't look like she was going to be lightening up.

"I know you will be," Lily confessed, taking a step closer to him. "It's just, with everything that's happened, I need to know that you're going to be fine." Her eyes were gleaming, and Noah took an instinctive step forwards and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll be fine, Lily. I promise." Noah knew that Damian's death had been weighing on her heavily, more so than anyone else, and that was the reason that she'd been acting so overprotective.

Nodding once, she was about to tell him that he could go when Emma bustled over, carrying a plate of cookies.

"Noah! Take these to the barn; you and Luke can have some. But only some! You need to have an appetite for supper." Emma pressed a cloth-covered plate into his hands, and Noah's mouth watered as the scent of chocolate chip cookies wafted upwards. "And be careful," she added.

"I will," Noah said, smiling and turning before anyone else could stop him. When he arrived at the barn, he knocked on the wood to let Luke know that he wasn't alone.

His boyfriend was by his horse's stall, brushing her. Shadow's ears were forwards, but she appeared to be completely relaxed. Luke brushed a hand down her neck and kissed her nose before making his way over to Noah.

"Hey," he said, almost shy. Noah set the cookies down on a stack of hay bales and kissed Luke gently, lingeringly.

"Hey," Noah replied, linking hands with Luke and walking over to the horse's stall. "How's Shadow doing?"

"She's doing good, aren't you, big girl?" Luke directed the last half of his sentence at his horse, crooning to her. "You're such a good girl." Noah smiled, tentatively reaching a hand forward and stroking it down Shadow's neck. At first, he'd been terrified by the sheer size of the horses; now, he was as comfortable around them as he was another human being.

They stood in silence after that, surrounded by the warmth of the barn and the smell of hay, until Luke abruptly broke the silence.

"I made an appointment with a therapist," Luke said, his voice low but clear. "I had made one a while back, but with everything that went on… I missed it." He opened his mouth to say more, but shut it at the realization that he'd be babbling.

Noah chose to say nothing, pulling Luke into his arms and kissing the top of his head instead. "I'm so proud of you," he ended up whispering into that mop of blonde hair. Luke pulled back, his expression a mix between relief and worry.

"I might not be better right away," he said tentatively. "I want you to know that. I'll try, but, it might take time."

"I'm not going to be better for a while, either," Noah replied. When Luke just gazed at him, he added, "And I don't mean just physically." Luke's eyes widened slightly in recognition, and Noah didn't move as Luke's hand came up and cupped his cheek.

"But we're going to get through this, right?" Luke asked, his thumb stroking across Noah's skin.

"Of course," he replied, staring into Luke's eyes and knowing that it was the truth. "We'll get through this, together."

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**I know everyone probably hates me for this chapter taking so long, but please review anyways? It would make me a very happy camper =)**


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